Noir Héros
by Rivena Verity Vartanian
Summary: The war has been over for five years, and everyone's lives seem to be shaping up according to plan. Unfortunately for Severus, he's been named the centuries most sought after bachelor and recent events have made him even more desirable.
1. I

**A/N: It is with the great enthusiasm that I would like to th****ank ****Sharkeygirl****for creating such a wonderful story entitled Kiss From A Rose. She is an amazing author and I highly recommend that anyone who has not read her work, DO SO NOW!**

**She was my inspiration.**

**Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling, and whoever else receives a pay check from the sales of her books, are the only ones who make any money off the characters that came from her imagination. I do not claim to own anything within my story, other than my plot. My writing is a meld of both my imagination and Rowling's, and is only meant as entertainment, with the hope that my plots are unique enough to merit a review or two.

**Extended Summary:** It had been five years since the war had ended. She hadn't been back to Hogwarts since, but she had heard plenty about a certain dark haired Professor. Severus Snape's role in the war had been romanticized by the mass population, and his role as a hero had escalated into that of the most sought after man in the Wizarding World. It had to be a change for him, seeing as the only people who wished him dead anymore were the disgruntled husbands of woman who fantasized about having him in their bed.

**A/N:** Previously, I had a story posted under the same title with a different plot. I'm sorry to say that I ran into a wall and could find no way around it. I had to give up on it, because the plot wasn't flowing the way I'd wished it to. I know this seems to be a completely different story, and in many ways it is but it will have several of the same elements in it and though it has a higher rating it will mostly appeal to the same people. I couldn't find it in me to start a romance between Severus and Hermione while she was still at school, and I wanted to get JK. Rowling's characters out into the real world.

**Noir Héros**  
><strong>I<strong>

_"The noir hero is a knight in blood caked armor. He's dirty and he does his best to deny the fact that he's a hero the whole time."  
>-Frank Miller<em>

_What bothers me most is the notion that Severus Snape needs saving. Why does everyone need to be perfect? Why do men always need to be gentle?_

_People, women in general, hold with a notion that one day he will fall in love. That he will meet the woman who will change him into the romantic soul they all know is hidden beneath those long lashes framing his coal black eyes. _

_When they see him, they see a struggle to overcome a haunting past. They see turmoil within the fierce storm hidden in his gaze. They hope that they get chosen as the woman he turns to for comfort, and envision a moment where one look sets them apart from all the other women pining for his attention. _

_They fantasize that they get to see him cry in the throes of passionate love making, because they have reminded him how to feel. _

_They think that though he has rough edges and a snarky disposition in public, that behind closed doors he's an entirely different man. That behind closed doors and with a perfect woman he becomes a man that every woman would swoon for. _

_They look at him, and see a shattered man who longs for company. A man who needs to be helped._

_And worst of all, they believe him to be secretly nice._

_Those who see him as a person who would fare better in a softer light are all idiots._

_Severus Snape will never be a nice man. _

…

Sitting her quill down, she closed her journal and spelled it shut. There were things hidden on the pages of this book that if it were to ever fall into another person's hands, she would gladly turn her own wand upon herself. Lucky for her, she was good with a wand and was quite capable of safeguarding her secrets. If anyone tried to open it, they would encounter something far worse than a few blemishes on their face spelling them out as a traitor.

Life had turned out the way she had hoped. She got her degrees with perfect marks, along with a highly sought after Potions apprenticeship. Had a successful career as a potions supplier for several major Apothecaries and had more than enough spare time and money to lock herself away in her lab and research whatever fit her fancy. Life was exactly how she envisioned it.

Problem was she hadn't remembered to include one of the most important aspects of life when she wished upon all of those falling stars. She had forgotten to ask for a family.

Harry had married Ginny, and they were happily working on their third child. Whenever they got together for tea Ginny would never fail to happily mention that Harry was attempting to keep her constantly pregnant until they had a house full of children. She seemed happy enough to follow in her mother's footsteps. Harry's career as the head of the Auror department made life a lot simpler for them then it had been for the youngest former Weasley's family. Harry's salary, along with the decent sum of money he had inherited, meant that they never had to cut corners. A few years into the marriage, Ginny found that she really enjoyed those corners.

Ron had been a happy bachelor for the past five years that the trio had been out of Hogwarts, he'd spent the majority of his time traveling the world on the back of his broom stick. He'd joined the Chudley Cannons as a Keeper. He was happy with his life, but all the drinking and late night parties were wearing him out. He was ready to settle down and had been trying to convince Luna Lovegood to marry him. She'd been turning him down for almost a year now, but he seemed determined to get her to say yes. He wouldn't quit trying, and no one could honestly tell whether or not she wanted him to.

That only left her. She hadn't been popular in school, and in the rush to advance her career she had isolated herself from all potential suitors. The social part of life had passed her by as she ran around chasing success. Well, she had gotten success and now it was time to play catch up.

Tonight was dinner with the Potters. She loved them all dearly, even though none of them seemed to care about books. She had high hopes for the one cooking in Ginny's belly though. She knew that this one had to be the intellectual one.

The only thing she hated about her visits to her friend's home was that Ginny seemed to find it necessary to remind her that she was alone. She knew bloody well that she wasn't getting any younger, why Ginny found it necessary to constantly remind her of the fact she would never know.

After bathing and covering herself in anti-aging potion, she pulled on a cream dress that fell just above the tops of her knee high leather shoes. Ginny said that to catch a man one must first don a pair of stilettoes; which was funny, seeing as she herself had caught Harry before she'd ever even been able to walk in a pair.

They were a gift, the dragon hide leather boots. Dark green, almost black; they shone in the light as if made of silver. She loved them.

Dinner was to be at an upscale Wizarding restaurant that required reservations made a month ahead of time. Lucky for them that Harry was the Savior of the Wizarding World, or else Ginny's last minute plea for a table would have fallen on deaf ears.

Once she'd tamed her mass of curls into a manageable twist on the top of her head and put a dab of color to her lips; she pulled on a pair of dark brown robes that complemented both her shoes and her dress and she headed out the door.

..

Apparating was easy, a quick thought and she could be anywhere in the world she wished to go, within some limitations of course. Long distance Apparation made even the most skilled of persons fatigued. Closing her eyes to the sight of her freshly warded house, she opened them to a warm and cheerful home. The Potters two children were safely tucked away at their Granny and Gramp Weasley's while Mr. and Mrs. Potter stood waiting at the entrance to their home for Miss Hermione Granger to appear.

"Ready to go 'mione?" Harry greeted her with a smile and a hug, while Ginny patiently waited her turn to welcome her friend.

"You look lovely 'mione. Dressing up for anyone in particular?" Before Hermione had left her house, she had prayed that Ginny would put off with her match making services. Obviously that was not going to be the case tonight.

"Ginny please, not tonight. Can we not have one pleasant evening? Why does it have to always be about the men in my life?" Maybe if she begged she could get Ginny to change topics for at least one evening. To earn Ginny's silence on the subject, she would happily kiss the floor before her feet.

"We always have pleasant evenings, and I never talk about the men in your life. Seems to me that there hasn't been one for quite some time now." The smirk planted firmly on her face told the world that she was proud to one-up Hermione in a battle of syntax. "Let's go to dinner."

Ginny grabbed a laughing Harry's arm and the two disappeared. Leaving an irritated Hermione to follow after them.

Hermione couldn't help but think that maybe instead of a new man in her life; she could do with some new friends.

…

Minerva McGonagall was a pain in his ass. She even had the audacity to laugh at him when he'd complained about the flock of teenage girls who seemed to follow him everywhere he went. She said it built character and that he should be flattered by their attention. It was inappropriate and unwanted attention. Seemed to him that every time a girl came into heat they began to follow him around like a lost dog. It was disgusting.

He was no saint, and the difference in age between him and his suitors was less of a burden to him then it would have been to a better man, but that lack of figure left much to be desired. They had no curvature, nothing for a man to grab ahold of as he fucked the breath out of them. How was a man to be completely sated with a woman that was nothing but a pile of bones covered in tightly stretched skin?

Minerva had become the permanent Head Mistress of Hogwarts after He-Who-Continues-To-Be-A-Pain-In-His-Ass and had been advised by Dumbledore's portrait to enact a series of inter-professor relations. She wanted the staff to be friends. Severus found that idea to be disgusting as well.

Tonight, they were all headed to some run of the mill restaurant that was touted in Witch Weekly as being 'This Year's Top Place To Dine'. Minerva had meant for them to go seven weeks prior, but had been told there was a seven week wait on reservations. The closer it got, the more she talked about it. He'd be happy to go just as long as she'd shut up.

He didn't bother dressing for the evening. He was clean, and if that wasn't enough then she was welcome to have him stay behind.

His customary robes billowed behind him as he walked purposefully to the entrance hall where he was instructed to meet Minerva; he spotted Sprout standing at the door to the castle. He was instantly suspicious and the hair on the back of his neck stood up and he knew he'd been had.

"I thought you might ignore my request." Before he had time to respond he was ambushed from behind just as he rounded the corner to head for the door. He felt his robes shift as the spell from Minerva's wand took effect. "The spell only lasts till midnight, Severus. So be a good Cinderella and be home before the clock strikes twelve."

His teaching robes had been transformed into a pair of silk dress robes. They were simple, but much finer than the ones he'd been wearing previously. The only thing that calmed his temper at having his attire altered was the fact that he was still cloaked in all black. "You've raised your wand unwanted towards me, Minerva."

"Come now, no harms been done." She responded with a stern look on her face that let him know she wouldn't be cowed for her attempt at making him presentable. Sprout stood looking nervously between the pair. Minerva must have asked her to stand witness, just in case his temper would flair. It would be much more difficult to kill her if someone was watching; at least that's what she thought.

"I would keep a wary eye on my drinks tonight if I was you Head Mistress. Someone might find it funny to slip something in your cocktail that would cause you embarrassment." Severus didn't wait for a reply, but headed towards the gate to dissaperate.

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
><em>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<em>


	2. II

**A.N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm glad you liked it. I hope you stick with me, I have a feeling this is going to be a roller coaster of a ride, and we're just getting started.**

**Noir Héros  
>II<strong>

"Don't forget that I cannot see myself - that my role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror."  
>-Jacques Rigaut<p>

_Bloody fucking restaurant. _They'd had to wait exactly twenty-seven minutes before a cocky waiter came to squeeze them in the back corner. Not that he minded, the farther away from the hostess the better, the winch had gone as far as to 'accidently' rub up against him on her way to find a waiter for them. If she hadn't had such a nice arse he would have cursed her.

The food was overpriced and under-portioned, but seeing as Minerva was picking up the bill he was happy to indulge himself in the alcohol selection. The wine was too sweet for his liking, but the whisky was fine. He was on his fourth drink, aware of everything that was going on around him, but content to ignore the world. He loved whisky.

"Severus, dance with me will you?" She had to be insane, she was old and losing her mind. He did not dance. Ever.

"No." The look he sent her way would have deterred even the most anxious of suitors; but Minerva didn't want him in her bed, only on the dance floor.

"Don't be a git, Severus. One dance. Don't make an old woman beg." She was crazy, and he was perfectly capable of putting her out of her misery. His hand itched to grab his wand. One spell and he could make the old witch forget that she'd ever had the balls to ask him. "Come on Severus, you owe me." She was right about that, though it was a conniving thing to say. Asking him, he could understand. She was a Gryffindor, and they had the reputation of being brave. But, to actually guilt him into compliance, that was a Slytherin technique if ever he'd seen one.

Schooling his features into a look of disdain, he stood and helped her out of her chair. She'd had too much to drink, and could barely support herself. _Maybe I'll let her fall once we're on the dance floor. _He never got his chance though, as soon as they stepped foot on the wooden floor, the music turned to an alluring melody that was surely meant for lovers. Not for an old woman clinging to a man who didn't want the attention. If he were to let her fall, he would end up on the ground with her.

Severus was glad when the song was over; he'd rather undergo an unforgivable rather than dance with her one more time. _Bloody women and their idea that he was the ideal dancing partner._

The looks of the other women in the room caused him to smirk. Minerva may not have noticed, but he saw the murderous glint in their eyes. He had been dubbed Witch Weekly's Biggest Piece of Meat, or some such rubbish. The women in the room may be pleading for his attention, but their overly caked on faces made him cringe. If he wanted a woman who looked like a whore, he'd go buy one. Their fake faces and stuffed bra's made them look less appealing than the prostitutes walking the streets of Knockturn alley. They were cheaper too, the ones hiding in the recess of the shadows in the alley; no emotional connection. And they never expected flowers. He hated taking a witch to bed only to find her to still be there in the morning.

…

"Ginny, for the last time. I will not dance with you." Hermione was ready to jinx her friend. There was no way she was getting drug onto that dance floor with a six month pregnant woman. This was a fine restaurant, and Ginny's idea of dancing wasn't always in the best of taste; though it was hard to imagine Ginny's protruding belly 'getting _down_ and dirty' on the dance floor. Half the time she could barely get _up_ on her own. Hermione wasn't making a full of herself tonight.

"Oh, come on. Harry won't dance with me. He's always had two left feet and hates it. Plus, my feet are swollen and I don't want him to step on them. Please. Just one. I'll be good. "The pleading look in the younger witch's eyes was enhanced by the hormones raging through her system. She looked like she just might cry. "Hear the music? It's a slow song. I promise I won't do anything nasty." The smile on Ginny's face at the idea of dancing 'nasty' in such a fine restaurant let Hermione know that the pregnant woman was only saying that for her benefit. Ginny wouldn't mind one bit to give the uptight patrons a show.

"Fine, Ginny. One dance. But, you have to swear you won't badger me about men for the next week."

"Deal." The pair headed off to the dance floor, leaving a chuckling Harry behind at the table to watch.

Wizarding music was always odd to Hermione, they had instruments that made notes she'd never heard while growing up in the Muggle world. She much preferred Muggle music.

"Meet any nice witches lately, 'mione?" Ginny thought herself to be quite clever.

"No, Ginevra. I've not. And if you don't shut up, I'm going to go back to sit with your husband and leave you to dance alone." Hermione's response made the younger witch chuckle.

"Touché" But, she kept her mouth shut for the remainder of the song.

It was getting late for Ginny's pregnant body, and Hermione held with the hope that she wouldn't get suckered into another dance. They hadn't made it to the dance floor until the song was half way over, and Ginny would have been sure to point out the fact that this song obviously didn't count.

The song ended and Hermione turned to escape the dance floor before Ginny got any bright ideas, but her path was blocked by an man who was in just as much of a hurry to escape as she was.

"Ms. Granger, what a pleasure to run into you." The slurred voice of a woman Hermione hadn't heard in several years called after her. Looking off to the side, she spotted Professor McGonagall headed her way and broke out into a broad smile.

"Professor, what are you doing here?" For being named as the 'brightest witch of her age', she sure did ask dumb questions sometimes. They were at a public restaurant; obviously the woman was enjoying a nice time out. The answer the older woman gave was not something she had expected.

"I'm getting drunk." Hermione's jaw would have dropped had she been less in controll of her facial expressions. The McGonagall she knew was a tight jawed woman who took no crap. This woman was intoxicated in public and quite happy about it. "You must come say hi to everyone." Her ex-professor took hold of her arm and began to drag her in the opposite directing of Harry and her waiting dessert. Looking around for Ginny, she spotted the woman waving her on before heading back to sit with her husband.

"What brings you out for the evening, if you don't mind me asking?" Hermione had a sinking feeling that her childhood professor was on a date and the idea was enough to turn her stomach. She didn't like to think about the older woman's sex life.

"Dinner, but the wine was excellent. Dumbledore says that it's important for Hogwarts to have a tightknit staff, after Voldemort fell and we lost so many people…" She trailed off with a look of sorrow on her face before moving on. "Well, it's been a bit stressful on the staff. We've had to replace several wonderful professors, and it's been taking a bit of time to get the seasoned members of the staff to mingle with the new."

Hermione was relieved; she'd been meaning to pay a visit to her old professors for some time now. Saying hi to them here was much better than intruding on McGonagall's date.

…

As soon as the song was over, Severus removed the old woman's arms from his person and slinked away back to the table. _My firewhiskey had better be refilled when I get there._ It was time to get successfully hammered.

The wait staff had attended his drink when he reached it. It was fresh and waiting for him. He downed it in one gulp. He eyed a woman pouting with a group of similarly outfitted witches a few tables over from him. The bloody bent had attempted to cut in on the dance floor, only to be told to 'shove off' by a very out of character McGonagall. Severus came to the conclusion that he liked the old woman much better when she'd had a few drinks. He wondered if she had gotten lost on her way back to the table, he'd already called for a fresh drink.

"Everyone I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger." The war had taken its toll on everyone, and Minerva was no exception. She and Dumbledore had been much closer than anyone realized. They had been privately married just shy of three years before Dumbledore's strategic death, and though she would never say it out loud Severus knew that she blamed him for his death.

Publically, Minerva had remained strong and proved a fierce warrior in the battle. She was still known as the hard assed woman she had always been, but Dumbledore's portrait had sought him out the year before to plead for his assistance. McGonagall had begun to drink herself numb, and would lock herself away with a bottle of whisky and Dumbledore's portrait. The staff all thought that she was merely trying to revamp the school, but after Dumbledore's plea for help Severus had felt obligated to ease the woman's mourning. She hadn't turned out to be such bad company but Severus was yet to get her to admit to her alcohol addiction.

The old woman turned from Miss Granger to head to her seat, but didn't make it. She tripped over the leg of one of the chairs and promptly passed out on the floor. Miss Granger was the first to come to her aid, but standing quickly from his seat Severus reached the side of the ill older woman and shoved the younger one out of the way.

A whispered spell later and Severus was able to force a potion down the woman's throat. There may no longer be a war raging, but Severus was still a spy at heart. He never left his rooms without the essentials.

She stood up on shaky legs and clung to his arm. He turned to the group of onlookers and announced that they would be leaving. Their waiter opened his mouth to object about the bill, but one look from Severus silenced his opposition. "Bill my account." And with that, he dissaperated.

…

They arrived at the Hogwarts gate, and Severus promptly scooped the frail woman up into his arms, carrying her to the castle. It was mid-December and the Hogwarts grounds preferred to have a snow covered Christmas.

Severus heard the popping sound signaling apparition, but didn't slow down to see who had arrived. Most likely it was just the rest of the Hogwarts staff and he wasn't interested in assuring anyone that the Headmaster would be alright.

…

The portrait hiding the staircase that cut through the caste and let out only a dozen feet from the Headmistresses private rooms saw them enter and though it was normally quite talkative it merely asked for the password and swung open after asking whether the Headmistress was alright.

The woman may have been frail but that didn't mean she was little. The excessive amount of alchohol she had been consuming had taken its toll on her figure. She made a fat cat, and he'd be happy to set her down and depart to his own chambers.

He had planned to toss her into bed and leave, but after a comment from Dumbledore's portrait and a slur of curse words from him; he turned back the covers and tucked her in, shoes and all. Those weren't enough Galleons in the world to convince him to undress the woman. There were images he wished to not burn into his brain.

He left the old woman's rooms only to run across an out of breath Miss Granger coming up the stairs. He was pleased to see she had such a difficult time of them. The castle must have objected to her storming the halls. "Is… She…. All… Right?"

"She's fine enough that there was no need of you to come run to her aid." Had she been anyone other than herself, he would have been much less tolerant of her questions.

She had come to him the week after receiving her diploma, and demanded that he accept her as an apprentice. It had taken her a month to convince him she was worthy.

_(Flashback)_

_It was nearing eleven o'clock when he heard someone pounding on his door. Irritably, he left his desk to see who was outside. It had been raining outside, and he was greeted with a short statured woman sporting a soaking wet mop on her head._

"_I'm surprised that you graduated from this school not knowing the simplest of drying Charms, Ms. Granger." He was happy to note that his words caused her face to turn crimson. His eyes traveled the length of her body. She was a shapely girl. A few pounds over the weight recommended by her peers, and had a decent pair of legs. He wondered whether the blush would also color her chest, but was unhappy to note that her robes where modestly buttoned. _

_"Obviously Professor Snape, you have noticed that my clothes are quite dry at the present moment, though they had been sopping when I apparated here. I'm quite able to cast the most complex of drying spells; unfortunately my hair doesn't take kindly to being forced dry." Apparently, no longer being his student gave her balls. "May I come in?"_

"_No, you may not." And he shut the door in her face. He cared little for her as a student, and now that she was no longer under his charge he had no obligation to entertain her chatter. Not that he did when he was. _

_She didn't leave though. He could hear her pounding on the door, but chose to ignore it. He had potion ingredients to attend to, and he figured that she would eventually give up and leave. Returning to his desk, he picked up a piece of parchment and went to the supply closet where he continued to dispose of expired ingredients and mark down the ones that needed refilling. She still didn't leave. He continued to sort through his supplies for a good fifteen minutes before he'd had enough._

_Setting the parchment down he pulled himself to his full height and opened the door. "If you don't quit banging on my door, Granger, I'm going to make it so that you'll never be able to knock on one again." His voice was hard as stone, and she knew that it was best to be wary of him. He was the kind of man that never threatened someone unless he was willing to make good on his word._

_Though she took a step back from him, she didn't retreat. "If you'll just hear me out sir. I just need five minutes of your time." _

_A sneer ghosted across his face before it disappeared and left him expressionless. "Proceed."_

"_Might I come in sir? I thought we might discuss this in your office." She looked around him as if pointing out that there was no one else in the room with him._

"_The clock is ticking Miss Granger, your running out of time."_

"_Oh alright, sir. I came here to apply for an apprenticeship, sir."_

_Severus was silent for what seemed to the girl as ages before he let out a sharp bark of laughter that caused her eyes to widen and for her to take another step away from him. The sound was not what one would associate with happiness. He was mocking her. "No."_

_For the second time that day, he slammed the door shut in Hermione Granger's face, and this time he successfully ignored her knocking. He was a wizard after all, and quite capable of casting a silencing spell._

_(End Flashback)_

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
><em>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<em>


	3. III

**AN: **Again, I want to say thank you to all of those who review. You give me the motivation I need to update. And, you all put a smile on my face.

**Noir Héros  
><strong>**III**

_We must not say every mistake is a foolish one.  
>-Cicero<em>

To say that she hated the man would be a lie. He infuriated her. Every time he opened his mouth with a snarky comment, she wanted to spell it full of dirty socks. To make matters worse, the _only_ times he opened his mouth was to say something snarky.

When she'd first come to him asking for an apprenticeship, she had believed that the end of the war would have made him a much more bearable person. That was the biggest mistake she had ever made. If anything, the war being over had made him worse.

Apprenticing for him was nothing short of pure agony. He taught her things, sure. But, he made her learn them on her own. He told her were to look, and then left her alone; unless of course he wanted her to clean something, or re-shelve ingredients that had been used in his classroom. The entire three years she apprenticed for him felt to her like a drawn out detention. He made her scrub cauldrons, grade papers, and stock the infirmary with copious amounts of potions. She could make Pepperup Potion in her sleep. He even made her hike through the forbidden forest on her own in search of potions ingredients just so he could save a sickle when the new school year rolled around. She'd come out the next morning covered in a rash that turned her skin a deep shade of purple and oozed black puss. Madame Pomfrey had been absent from the school and the resident potion master had forced her to identify the ailment and brew the cure on her own. Had her entire body not felt like it was submerged in a vat of Ulcrisus she wouldn't have minded the challenge. As it was, she could barely concentrate on her research. Not only did her skin burn but every time a boil burst she had an uncontrollable urge to laugh. It tickled. It took her 14 hours (including the three and a half of sleep she managed) to identify the rash and finish the potion. He was insufferable. He'd known what it was the whole time, and she was fairly certain that he had the cure on hand the entire time.

…

"Was there something I could do for you, Miss Granger?" She hadn't seen him in just over two years. He looked the same as he had when she was a first year. The image of him rubbing anti-aging potion into his face crossed her mind and she had to bite her lip to keep back the smile. Imagine it; the greasy bat of the dungeons worried about fine lines and a few age spots. The idea was ridiculous.

She glared at him. "Move." He was blocking the way into the Headmistress' private rooms.

He raised his left eyebrow and didn't say a word. He didn't move either.

"It seems that these past few years have done nothing for your mannerism, Ms. Granger." The way he drawled out his vowels and barely spoke above a whisper made her skin crawl. She was pretty sure that he could make any sentence sound like a death threat just by the tone of his voice.

Sighing in frustration, she tried again. "Please move."

He took a step to the right, which only gave her enough room to get through the door if she squeezed past him.

She spoke the pass word and attempted to enter the threshold with her head held high, regardless of the fact that she had to turn sideways in order to do so. She would have made it too, had he not swiftly turned to pin her against the door frame.

In all the romance novels she'd read, of which there were more than she was willing to admit to, this would be the moment that their eyes met and in one startling second a fire would ignite in their bellies and their passion for one another would ignite into a flame that burned them alive with lust. In all the letters she'd received from suitors begging her to put them in contact with the _mysterious_ man. (She'd heard that even Neville had received his fair share of letters begging for a way to contact Snape. It seemed that any person who had shared a conversation, even a scathing one, with the insufferable man was destined to be harassed by every desperate woman pinning to latch onto his arm; and his Gringotts account.) This was the moment they had all been wanting. Too bad she wasn't one of those women. She wasn't about to be pressed up against a stone wall and taken in an empty corridor. Especially not by a man who's nose couldn't pick a direction to grow in.

Severus Snape may have been quick to pin her to the wall, but he hadn't been the only one to live through a war. Instead of calling for help and demanding that he release her, she grabbed her wand and flung him across the hall.

Turning around she entered the room and furiously slammed the door, she could hear him laughing in the corridor. Apparently he hadn't hit hard enough.

…

When he'd pushed her against the wall, he'd known that she'd go for her wand. But with the way she was dressed, he'd been unable to resist the urge to 'feel her up' as he'd heard it be phrased.

…

Harry had taken the time to box their dessert before apparating with his wife to Hermione's sitting room, but Ginny was quite fond of Chocolate cake and had devoured not only her own but Hermione's as well.

They'd already left by the time she returned; leaving a note stating that Ginny needed rest.

As if knowing that his mistress was calling for him, a large orange ball came hurdling itself through the room and onto the bed. "There you are Crookshanks, I was wondering where you were at." It seemed that her cat might just outlive her, regardless of the fact that when she'd received him he'd been well into his prime.

She took him and a book into the living room, but just as she snuggled down into her couch with a cup of tea, her fireplace erupted in green flames. Moment later a tall brown haired man entered into her living room, and taking no notice of her headed straight, if not slightly unbalanced, for her kitchen and preceded to destroy everything he came into contact with.

"Theodore Nott, what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

In the middle of her kitchen, surrounded by the contents of her refrigerator and one upside down chair, was her childhood nemesis wearing a deadly serious expression.

"Bloody bint at the bar cut me off. Drunk she said I was." He continued to dig through her fridge inspecting everything he came into contact with and throwing it to the floor when he'd deemed it had no alcohol content.

"And so you thought you'd just pop on over here and have a go at my liquor cabinet?"

"Cabinet!" He'd completely ignored the question, focusing instead on the fact that she'd hinting at her hidden stash.

"Oh no you don't." Hermione pointed her want at her cupboards and spelled them shut. "You've done enough damage as is."

"You're in on it too! It's your fault I got kicked out of the bar!" Theodore owned one of the apothecaries she supplied. He liked to be in control of his business and was always the one to sign off on her shipment of weekly potions. As she was a one woman business, she delivered her own product. They'd struck up a friendship over the years, and while neither of them was on a first name basis, he had come over for tea before; if only to talk about his potion supply.

"I don't give a damn what you drink. But you are not going to destroy my kitchen."

"Then tell me where the fire whisky is." He pointed his wand at her cabinets, all the while looking at her waiting for her to give in.

"Oh, all right." Crossing the kitchen, she removed the sticking charm and removed a bottle of firewhiskey. "I'll give you this, if you tell me why you came here."

A sly smirk crossed the Slytherin's face. "I'll tell you why I'm here, if you have a drink with me."

Rolling her eyes, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already ten o'clock. Not entirely too late to have a drink, but she had work in the morning. "One glass."

Grabbing two tumblers, she ushered him into the living room and onto the couch. Glancing dejectedly back at her kitchen; it was highly unlikely that the pureblooded Nott was going to clean up his mess. She was fairly certain he didn't know a single cleaning spell, much less be able to identify a mop. Filling his glass as he settled onto the couch, she poured a splash into her cup and went to settle into a chair.

"You call that a glass, Granger?" He grabbed her tumbler and filled it. Sighing, she took the full glass from him and sat down wondering whether she had any hangover potion or if she was going to have to brew some.

"Now spill." She said.

"Now drink." He mocked her as he knocked back his drink and refilled his glass. It was going to be a long night.

…

Groaning, she sat up. Her head pounding. The first thing she noticed as sensation returned to her body was that she was lying on the floor of her living room stark naked. The second thing she noticed was the sticky feel between her legs. She'd fucked Theodore Nott.

After downing a bottle of hangover potion and taking a quick shower, she pulled on her robe and went to inspect the damage. The kitchen was a mess. The living room was even worse. The cushions had been ripped from the couch. Liquor bottles were strewn about the room, some empty and some left to drain into her floor. And hanging on a picture of her at Harry and Ginny's wedding was a pair of underwear and a note.

Grabbing it, she was unsurprised to see that it was from Nott.

_Granger_

_Tell anyone. I will kill you._

After reading it, it burst into flames. Singeing her hand and disintegrating on the floor. _Like I'd want to tell anyone about this._


	4. IV

**Noir Héros  
>IV<strong>

_There are more dead people than living. And their numbers are increasing. The living are getting rarer.  
>-EUGENE IONESCO<em>

…

Severus was sitting at the high table when he received the summons. A small owl, barely the size of his hand, flying smoothly over the heads of the bleary eyed students eating breakfast was headed straight for him.

He sneered as it landed next to his plate. _Bloody fan mail._

"Are you going to open that?" Minerva asked.

"Whether or not I intend to open anything belonging to me, Headmistress is of no concern to you." He glared at the elderly woman when her only response was to chuckle into her cup of morning tea.

The owl hooted up at him, holding out its leg. Sighing, he removed the letter. Without waiting to be offered a treat, the owl grabbed his half eaten toast off his plate and flew away. _Bloody owl._

Opening the letter, he was surprised to recognize a script that he hadn't seen in decades.

_Professor Severus Snape_

_It is with intense displeasure that I announce the death of Eileen Prince-Snape. _

_She passed from this world the evening of September 3__rd__ due to natural causes. _

_It is requested that you appear at the Prince estate on the morning of September 5__th__ at 10:00am. The reading of her will and testament will commence after a short memorial service. _

_At the time of your arrival, all questions that you wish to ask will be answered to the best of my knowledge._

_Sincerely,  
>Randolph Richley<br>Family Attorney_

One of the problems with this letter was that his mother was already dead. He'd received word by the same lawyer that his mother had died in the middle of his sixth year at Hogwarts.

Eileen Prince had been shot to death by Tobias Snape before he took his own life.

...

"Malfoy Manor." Throwing the floo powder in the fire, he stepped into the flames and exited into the foyer of his oldest friends' home.

There was a crack, "Can I be getting Professor anything?" A tiny elf asked him.

"Lucius." Right away, the elf cracked out of sight, only to return moments later.

"Master Malfoy is in the library, sir."

Severus didn't waist another breath on the elf. Turning, he strode up the grand staircase and down the hall to the Malfoy library.

"Ah, Severus. A pleasure to see you." Narcissa greeted him upon entering. "Perhaps drinks would be appreciated?" He inclined his head in acceptance.

"The pleasure is all mine, Madame Malfoy."

"Always so polite, Professor Snape" She mocked him. "Perhaps one day you will come around to calling me by my given name?"

"I see no offense in remaining as things have always been."

"I did not mean to imply that I took any offense at your mannerism. In fact, I admit to it being quite refreshing in these new times. However, I do mean to imply that you are more than just an acquaintance to this family. As I seem to have been reminding you of constantly these past few years, I hope that you count my family and me as friends."

He smirked at the blond woman; it was true that they had bantered over this issue before. And truth be told, Severus liked the fact that it irritated Narcissa to no end not getting her way. "I am afraid that I am unaccustomed to having _friends_, especially not those that I'm allowed to openly admit to. Perhaps you'd oblige me with my old ways, it seems they are habits unwilling to abate."

"Perhaps." She was smiling openly at him now, but his stoic emotionless face never faltered. Though she did fancy seeing the slightest gleam in his eye.

Chuckling, Lucius joined the conversation. "Severus, friend" He dragged out the last word, "Come. Sit. Cissa, if you'll pour us some drinks." He indicated a crystal decanter and Narcissa filled three tumblers. "There is an article here; two wizards are claiming to have found a cure for lycanthropy. It sounds solid to me, though I'll admit to most of it being outside my comprehension. Perhaps you could aid me in my decision to invest?"

"I've read the report." Severus turned down the copy Lucius was attempting to hand him. "Without going into too laborious accounts of its details, I will say that it is not without its merits. However, those creating it are fools for thinking that it is ready for mass production. Several of the ingredients used for its make are unstable. The potion itself only lasts mere minutes before losing its properties and has to be taken within the first ten minutes of a transformation. Meaning that in order to affect the werewolf at all, it must be timed precisely in order to be ready for ingestion at the first light of a full moon. All the test cases used to _prove _effectiveness, have only had the potion administered for one moon cycle. Meaning that no one knows whether its long term effects are the same as the immediate results. As it is, it might turn out to be nothing more than a step-up from Wolfsbain. Which, by the way it is a derivative of. If I may make a suggestion, I recommend that at the very least you wait through the next full moon before making any commitments. Of course, their patent only stands for the potion as it is. They only have a year to find a way to stabilize it, and if they are unable, any potion master wishing to take up the process will be able."

Lucius looked at Severus with masked confusion in his eye, "How is it that another Master would be able to take over what they have created?"

Severus answered with a slight roll of his eye, to which he could hear Narcissa snicker at. "After submitting a patent for a potion, the Potion Master then only has one year before others in his field can make derivatives of said potion. They retain the rights to the original that they hold the patent for, but if another Master achieves something they were unable to produce, then the new potion goes to the person who built upon the original. Regardless of how much or how little the potion is changed. It is, in essence, a new undiscovered potion." Lucius sat strumming his hand on his mahogany desk deep in thought.

"So you're saying that if I invest money in them and they are unable to stabilize the potion. And the potion then goes to another Master who perfects it and then patents and mass produces it, I will receive no stipend off my investment." Lucius' mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"That is correct."

"Then they are fools for setting about to prove what they are not sure of."

Having been a friend of Lucius for several decades, he was able to discern the slight drop of his shoulders signaling his disappointment. "Thank you, Severus. For your advice. I will take it into consideration. As it is, I've known you long enough to realize that you want something. Never once have you shown up without prior warning for a social call. How can I be of service?"

Perhaps it was time to change his habits, if there was anything Severus hated was predictability.

Without saying a word, he withdrew the letter from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to Lucius. Who read it, and then set it down on the desk.

"I'll assume that you did not know she was alive?"

"No, you were with me the first time I received a similar letter. I received Spinner's End, and a small sum of money."

"Are you going to go?"

Severus didn't answer, and Narcissa broke the silence. "Of course he's going to go." She said in exasperation.

Raising an eyebrow he looked at her with mocking curiosity.

"Severus, dear, If there is one thing I know you hate it's not knowing something. Especially when it pertains to you. Not to mention the fact that someone else has answers that you don't." By the time she'd finished speaking, Severus was glaring at her. _Predictable. They think I'm predictable._

"She's right, Severus." Lucius drew his attention.

_Of course she is._ He thought with a groan.

…

He would have apparated to the Prince Estate, had he known its location. As it was, he was forced to use the floo with a hope that he landed in the right place.

Stepping out of the fire, he was greeted by a lanky man with greying sand colored hair. "Right on time, Mr. Snape. Please, follow me."

"Are you Mr. Richley?"

"Yes." The man was oblivious to the fact that Severus was not following him out of the room.

"Then I suggest you stop walking and explain the meaning of this."

Sighing, the elderly man turned around and looked Severus up and down.

"You look just like your father, Severus."

"Such familiarity in name is unnecessary in this situation; I request you address me by my title."

The attorney didn't answer for several moments, taking the time to size up the dark wizard. "Very well, Professor." He finally responded. "Have a seat and I'll explain as best I can." He motioned towards a comfortable looking chair in front of the fire. Severus stared at him with arms crossed and eyebrow raised. The man settled himself into a chair and continued his story with an irritated Severus Snape towering over him. "You were in your sixth year of school when it happened. Tobias Snape had a love affair with a Muggle drink called Rum, so it seems fitting that he would have taken his last breath in a tavern. When your father died, your mother was in a very bad way. She was heartbroken, though I cannot fathom the reason why. Had I been in her position I would have been relieved to be rid of him. Your father, as I'm sure you know, was nowhere near the ideal husband."

Again he motioned to the seat across himself, and again Severus refused to sit. He continued with his tale. "It could be said that Madame Prince came to her rescue. The late Master Prince had died years earlier and in an attempt to reconnect with her daughter, she invited her home." He looked to Snape as though this was enough clarification.

"Pardon me for being unable to see how this explains the letter I received stating my… Tobias and Eileen Snape died in a murder-suicide. You have yet to address the more" Severus paused here, letting the silence accentuate his words, "interesting facts."

"Ah yes, I had nearly forgotten that letter. It's been so many years." Severus merely stared at the man. "It was your mother's idea, though I fear she was greatly influenced by Albus Dumbledore."

"She told me she'd realized long ago that her late husband was a monster, but having no one to turn to and living in a world she barely understood she'd been forced to cling to him. It didn't help that her heart had always belonged to the man she'd met so many years ago. Madame Prince felt terrible for abandoning her daughter when it became clear that she would have returned home long ago had she felt welcomed. As it was, your mother knew she had done you a great disservice. She longed to reconnect with you, but you had already accepted the Dark Mark. Dumbledore came in the middle of the night and sealed himself in the library with Madame Prince and Eileen. It wasn't until after that I was told what happened."

Again he paused his story to motion towards the still unoccupied chair across from him. This time Severus relented. "Tobias had no family to speak of, and no one took a notice to his death. As you had yet to be informed of the death of your father, Madame Prince instructed me to write a letter informing you that both your father and your mother had departed this world. Mr. Dumbledore had need of you in the war that was fast approaching, and while I'll admit to being glad of the way it turned out, your mother was devastated. Eileen had lost a husband who'd only wanted the money she was disinherited from, and now she was forced to abandon the child she'd willingly neglected."

Mr. Richly reached for a tumbler and a crystal decanter holding an amber colored liquid, filling two glasses he held one out to Severus and took a drink from his own. "Finest whisky in the country." He said, indicating the proffered glass before continuing his story. I was told that Dumbledore, in a desperate attempt to secure your allegiance, had demanded of Eileen that she let your life unfold without her. Stating that having a mother that cared may set you into a different path. He wouldn't explain more than that. Only that you were detrimental. After the Dark Lord's demise, your mother again thought of reaching out to you. But it was too late. You'd lived your life without her, and she no longer felt deserving of your sentiment."

Severus took his time to digest this information, his face remaining blank. Setting his empty glass down he stood from his chair and looked at his wrist watch. "Perhaps it would be best to get on with this meeting."

"Ah, yes. It seems to be too late to join the service; let us adjoin in the library."

…

They were the first to enter the room and Severus quickly took a position next to one of the book cases. He stood quiet and still, watching as the others filed in.

There was a group of woman with black veils draped across their face, the five of them sat clustered in front of the desk Mr. Richly took up residence behind. It was several minutes before a couple entered, the woman leaning heavily on the arm of the man escorting her.

"As everyone is here, I will begin by saying that you all have my deepest condolences at your loss. I may have worked for Eileen, but I fancy myself a member of her group of confidences. She will be missed." There was collective muttering of agreement around the room and then he began. "

"_**LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT**_

_**Of**_

_**Eileen Prince**_

_**Declaration**_

_I hereby declare that this is my last will and testament and that I hereby revoke, cancel and annul all wills and codicils previously made by me either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age to make this will and of sound mind and that this last will and testament expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress._

_**I direct that my estate shall devolve as follows:**_

_Special Bequests: _

_I bequeath to Madame Rosanne Maxell my goblin carved blue vase resting above the mantel in my foyer along with 2500 galleons I hope she spends choosing fabric to sew more of those wonderfully beautiful dresses I loved to wear so often."_

Mr. Richley continued to read through the will, dolling out items such as china sets and recipe books to each of the five grieving women sitting together. Each woman received a trinket along with a sum of 2500 galleons Severus took note of the tense set to the man and woman's shoulder as they sat awaiting their turn. When it finally came, their shoulders still did not relax.

_I bequeath to Monsieur Dram Torrent my dragon hide gloves and a sum of 1250 galleons for all the hard work and dedication he's done to ensure the life and lustier of my flower garden and to his (at the time of this will and testaments creation) wife, Madame Hanna Torrent I bequeath 1250 galleons and my kitchen aprons for all the wonderful praise she had given them during our time together baking and chatting over tea._

_I bequeath to Severus Tobias Snape 50000 galleons in the hopes that he finds use of such monies to find a way to a happy life._

Mr. Richley paused here, letting the information settle in before moving on to the remainder of the estate.

_I could quit teaching, _Severus thought.

_After my special bequests I bequeath the residue of my Estate to:_

_Severus Tobias Snape. It is in my request that the entirety of my estate, after that which has been bequeathed to those stated herein and above, is left to my son. This is to include all properties, possessions, and accounts held in my name. The sum total of all moneys within every vault held both in this country and those across boarders and seas shall be turned over and put in the name of my son._

At this announcement, the man and woman gave up all pretenses of looking grief stricken. The woman let out a small shriek and her grip on her husband's arm turned white. The man's face contorted into a swirling storm of anger and looking towards Severus he opened his mouth to argue the validity of that statement. Severus merely smirked at him as Mr. Richley quickly cut in to continue the reading of the will.

_HOWEVER, before any possession is bequeathed to him, it is my request that he join in marriage with a witch of his choice, for it is my only hope that every disservice I have ever done him shall at some point be rectified in such a way as he finds happiness. If he is unable to find a wife within the next year, than he shall NOT be required to return the 50000 galleons bequeathed him and the sum of my possessions in the residue of my estate shall be divided equally between those seven named herein and listed as:_

_Rosanne Maxelle  
>Tabitha Susell<br>Raven Axel  
>Adrianna Averson<br>Samantha Powell  
>Dram Torrent<br>Hannah Torrent_

_It is my greatest wish that the bulk of my inheritance stays within the bloodline of the Prince family and I wish my son the greatest luck in his endeavor along with great happiness in the arms of his new wife._

_I caution that he chooses well from the pool of frantic women I am sure will swarm him for the opportunity to become Madame Severus Snape for I have watched him develop as a man and am aware of the numerous prospects, some greener than others, that he has at his disposal due most notoriously for his classification as a War Hero._

_Should the death of Severus Snape happen within 30 days of the reading of this will and his marriage already verified, then the sum of his inheritance shall be distributed to his wife unless a valid will and testament has been created dispensing his inheritance. _

_Should the death of Severus Snape happen without the completion of a valid marriage than the sum of this inheritance shall be distributed as it would have been if he was alive and unable/unwilling to marry._

_**I direct that on my death my remains shall be cremated and all cremation expenses shall be paid out of my estate. **_

_It is my _request that I be laid to rest beneath my roses, and ask that my ashes be scattered there.

The first thing that came to Severus mind was, I wish I could kill that bloody woman.

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p> 


	5. V

**Noir Héros  
><strong>_**V**_

"_Everyone has his own _specific vocation or mission in life_… Therein he cannot be re placed, nor can his life be repeated. Thus, everyone's task is as unique as is his specific opportunity to implement it." – Viktor Frankl_

…

As Mr. Richely escorted the group of women out of the library, one of them stopped in front of Severus and raised her veil so as to make eye contact with the younger man. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Snape. Eileen spoke fondly of you, even though her voice was often laced with longing when you came into the conversation, as you often did." Her eyes were bright within the creases of her wrinkled face; she was well into her years.

"I did not know Eileen Prince, at least not in the manner you speak of her. We had never seen eye to eye." Severus may have been a cold hearted bastard, but even he had his limits. And telling this woman that his more recent memories of Eileen Snape had been of her watching from a corner as his father beat him till he bled without once raising a hand to shield him was in fact crossing that line.

With a knowing gleam in her eyes, she spoke with a voice thick with emotion. "No, I suppose you did not. If you need anything, dear, please feel free to call on me. All of us, at least those who depart with me, loved Eileen dearly. But I caution you to watch your back were those two are concerned." She indicated with a nod of her head in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. Torrent as she slipped a piece of parchment with an address into his hand. "Take care." He inclined his head and she turned to follow her companions out of the room.

Placing the parchment within the folds of his frock coat, he waited for Mr. Richley to return. The Torrents' were deep in a furious discussion, all the while shooting him angry glances.

The moment Mr. Richley returned, they pounced.

"What is the meaning of this?" The man demanded as Mr. Richley settled wearily into his seat. "I demand to know why this" He paused here to sneer at Severus "man was announced sole beneficiary of basically the entirety of the Prince Estate."

"I don't write the will, Mr. Torrent. I merely read it." Severus noted how he sounded weary as he responded, as though he knew this was coming and had been putting it off for a long time.

"Preposterous!" Mr. Torrent thundered. "It was merely a year ago when Eileen herself told me that a large sum of her estate was to be left to my wife and me. And instead we're told that merely a few sickles are left to us. You and I both know she was getting old. She must have been off her rocker at the time of that things creation. It's a proxy and I demand that it be contested!"

"I'm afraid that all I can do is assure you that Eileen Prince was indeed of sound mind at the time of its creation and offer you this." He handed the couple a letter. It details her decision in naming her _son_" He stressed this last word for emphases causing Mrs. Torrent to grind her teeth together, "as her, as you said, sole beneficiary."

The couple grabbed the letter and after several seconds of reading, the woman exclaimed "This is absolute bollocks. Eileen and I had an understanding. She didn't mention any of this to me and I demand that it be contested."

Mr. Richley sighed and said in the politest voice he could muster, "Then I suggest you get yourself a lawyer to contest it. As it is, I am solely required to see to the completion of this" He held of the Will, "and only this until it's such a time as all matters have been finalized and then I will effectively go into retirement."

The couple glared at the elderly man, as though they had expected that he would have been on their side in the matter.

"Now, I ask that you leave me to discuss with Professor Snape the requirements for his inheritance." He stared pointedly at the door but they didn't budge.

"Marriage, what an absurdity. That in its self goes to show Eileen's state of mind at the time of the Wills creation. We're not leaving this room until you tell us the nature of this… marriage." He spit the word out as if it had bit him, "So as we can take this absurd information directly to an attorney to have it overthrown."

Severus, stepping away from his corner of the room for the first time, took mercy on the elder man and came to rest beside the desk. He was several inches taller than Mr. Torrent, though his wife could comfortable look him in the eye. "As it is, you are welcome to read in tomorrow's news the nature of our discussion. Seeing as it will become part of public record. For now, I suggest you remove yourself from this room as I have private business to discuss with Mr. Richley."

Both man and wife bristled at this, Mrs. Torrent opening her mouth to respond first. "You have no right to ask us to leave." Followed closely by her husband, "I'd like to see you make me."

Severus merely stared at the couple as Mr. Richley said, "Until the moment that this Will is set into effect, these grounds are under my care. Giving me the authority to remove you." Mr. Torrent looked at the man unimpressed "And if you do not do as I ask, I will request the assistance of Professor Snape in your removal."

While Severus didn't take kindly to being used as someone's attack dragon, he relished in the thought of throwing the unseemly couple out on their arse. Pulling himself to his full height, he let his wand slip from his sleeve into his hand where he caressed the ebony wood fondly.

The couple eyed him wearily before the man grabbed his wife's hand and pulled her from the room.

"As you were saying, Mr. Richley. I believe you have something to tell me." Severus raised his eyebrow at the man and was handed a sheet of parchment.

"I'll let you read this, Professor. Might be easier that way." Severus took the parchment from him and began to read.

…

**Requirement for completion of stipulations to Eileen Prince's Last Will and Testament:**

I, Eileen Prince, hereby declare that Severus Tobias Snape shall be required to comply with the following stipulations in order to receive and keep his inheritance as promised in my Last Will and Testament.

It has been my wish that the stipulations mentioned within this document are kept separate from the reading of my Last Will and Testament in order to keep with the integrity of its completion. Following the reading of my Last Will and Testament, I nominate to Randolph Richley the responsibility in providing Severus Tobias Snape a copy of my Last Will and Testament along with the authority to enforce the stipulations mentioned herein.

Following the delivery of this document to Severus Tobias Snape, it shall be made public along with my Last Will and Testament so as to apply with the law as it stands at the time of this documents creation.

Severus Tobias Snape shall marry no later than one year after the will and testament of Eileen Prince has been read.

It is a requirement of said marriage, and all marriages thereafter in order to comply with the rules of inheritance, that it be consummated.

Severus Tobias Snape shall stay married for a period of at least ten years.

If Severus Tobias Snape divorces before the minimum of ten years is spent with his betrothed, then he will be required to remarry within one year of the date that the divorce is terminated.

If Severus Tobias Snape separates from his wife, regardless of the reason, then he will have six months to reconcile. If at that time, he is unable to reconcile it is suggested that he start looking for other arrangements as he will be expected to remarry after a period of one year.

If Severus Tobias Snape remarries, then he will only be required to stay with the woman whom he's joined with for the remaining years left in his contract.

i.e. If Severus Tobias Snape is married to one woman for a total of seven years before divorce, then he will only be required to stay married to the next woman for a total of the remaining time left in his contract, three years.

It is a requirement of his inheritance that he share not only his address with his wife, but also his bed chambers and that they never be willingly parted for more than three consecutive nights within every four weeks, or one month.

While an heir is not necessary for the fulfillment of the terms and conditions of Eileen Prince's will and testament, it is highly encouraged.

Any heir produced by Severus Tobias Snape shall share in a trust fund set at the amount of 200000 galleons.

Said trust fund shall be equally distributed among each child.

If Severus Tobias Snape is unable/unwilling to produce an heir by the time of his death, said monies resulting in the total of 200000 galleons shall be dispensed to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

If any stipulation is not met within its designated time frame, then the estate of Eileen Prince shall be divided in the manner stated within Eileen Prince's Last Will and Testament.

…

For the second time that day all Severus could think of was,_ I wish I could kill that bloody woman._

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p> 


	6. VI

**Noir Héros**  
><strong>VI<strong>

"_Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength."  
>- Corrie Ten Boom<em>

It was 'The Golden Trio Night' as Ron liked to call it. The three of them met once a month to catch up on all the little details of life that weren't necessarily important enough to write about. They'd all taken a vow the night they joined the 'real world' that they wouldn't lose track of each other, and so far none of them had broken that vow.

It was Ron's night to choose the Diner, and her stomach was already uneasy. Last time, he had taken the lot of them to a Muggle pub that didn't serve anything unless it was fried. She'd watched as he devoured two slices of fried pizza, a stack of fried onion rings, and a fried Snickers bar.

Harry had been amazed at the place and had gone as far as ordering fried Coke. She still wasn't quite sure how the kitchen had managed to fry a liquid. At least he'd had the presence of mind to order some fried broccoli.

She'd tried to turn down the menu in lei of having only a glass of water, but Ron had insisted she have a fried hamburger and french-fries. The food wasn't awful, but she had spent the remainder of the night in the bathroom due to the oil content of the food.

While Ron had promised to tone down the Diner destination this time, she didn't hold much hope. He liked to go, as he called it, 'Muggle Hopping'. Mr. Weasley had finally managed to get a television installed into his home, and with the help of a few charms from Hermione that she would forever deny having cast, he had cable. Ron spent every Sunday evening at his parents' home watching different series and the current favorite was Man vs. Food. He'd named it his mission to reenact as many episodes as possible.

With a crack, Harry and Ron apparated into her sitting room seconds apart from each other. "Ready to go? I'm starving." Ron was rubbing his stomach and staring eagerly at her.

Laughing, she shoved her wand in her sleeve and grabbed hold of his arm. "Let's go."

Another crack, and the three of them dissaperated. Ron side-alonging Hermione to a dark alley beside a Muggle diner.

"What's on the menu tonight?" She questioned him, staring up into his blue eyes.

With a large grin plastered across his face he said, "An omelet made from twelve eggs smothered in chili and served with a pound of hash browns."

Wrinkling her nose, she followed him and Harry into the restaurant and sat down to order.

"What can I get you, Hun?" The waitress was slightly plump and dressed in a blue uniform. Ron immediately placed his order and the waitress chuckled at his enthusiasm as she wrote it down. "You know, if you eat it all you get it free." This just made his already face splitting smile stretch even further.

Harry ordered a regular burger platter smothered in jalapenos and fire sauce, while Hermione got a waffle and two sunny side up eggs. She hadn't been to a Muggle diner in so long, that the idea of a waffle was enough to make her drool.

"You're both ninnies." Ron said.

"Hey! Just because you can eat a whole cow and still be hungry, doesn't mean the rest of us _normal_ people can." Hermione argued. "It's not like we've got the Weasley hollow leg."

Harry started laughing at this, knowing all too well that every single Weasley was able to eat far more than the average person without the caloric intake doing a number on their body. Ginny, especially now that she was pregnant, was quite fond of Chocolate pie. If she wanted, she could put down a whole pie at one sitting. Not that she'd ever admit it, and Harry was quite certain she'd kill him if he ever told anyone. She was a lady, she'd told him once, and ladies don't put down whole pies.

Ron's stomach failed him, and he had to give up with several bites left on his plate. Not to be outdone by the pictures of those men and woman who'd successfully accomplished the devouring of said omelet in one sitting, he stealthily cast a confundus on those watching and scourgified his plate. After a round of applause and then having his picture be mounted next to all the others, they paid their bill and left. Ron, in an effort to make up for his slight cheating, left the waitress a tip that doubled the price of the omelet with change to spare. The confundus had worn off by then and she was so happy she cried, going so far as to hug Ron in thanks. His face effectively turning the color of his hair.

They said their goodbyes in the ally, but before Hermione apparated away she remembered that she'd left her purse on the booth chair. Assuring Harry and Ron that she'd be fine, they left for home while she went to grab her belongings.

The waitress who had served them greeted her at the door. She'd found Hermione's bag sitting on the bench and placed it behind the counter.

"I tried to open it to look for a way to get a hold of you, dear. But, it seems to be stuck. I couldn't open the clasp." The woman found at the bag as she handed it over.

Hermione blushed slightly as she told the woman that the clasp was prone to getting stuck. The truth being that it was spelled so as to only open if she herself opened it. The woman accepted her explanation and Hermione exited the diner for the second time that night.

The last thing she remembered before a splitting pain caused her to lose sight and pass out was entering the ally.

…

She could hear muttering nearby, but she couldn't make out the words. "Where am I?" She asked, and as soon as the words where out of her mouth she was surrounded by several people. Each of them talking simultaneously, and one of them poking and jabbing at each section of her body.

"We're so sorry, Mione. We never should have left you."

Someone squeezing on her legs.

"We were so worried."

Someone was pressing down on her abdomen.

"Do you remember what happened, Ms. Granger?"

A bright light was shone first in her left eye, and then in the right.

By the time she got her wits about her, the Medi-witch was ushering everyone out of her room to complete the examination.

"How long have I been out?" Hermione asked in a weak voice, having to cough halfway through in order to finish.

"The Auror's found you roughly ten minutes ago. Someone left you in a room in The Three Broomsticks. When Rosmerta went to prepare the room, she saw you lying on the bed unconscious and immediately summed the authorities. We're not sure how you got there, as no one has used that room in over a week. Rosmerta was merely trying to clean it out before that evening."

It took Hermione a moment to process that information, her head was killing her. The Medi-witch, seeming to notice her discomfort, pressed a flask of potion into her hand. Downing it quickly, she instantly felt relief in her temples. "What is today?"

"December seventeenth, Ms. Granger."

Hermione sighed in relief. Whatever had happened, at least she hadn't been held captive. Looking at the clock, she noticed that it was a quarter past ten. They had left the diner around eight o'clock.

"I'm going to cast a series of tests and draw some blood, and then Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley would like to come check on you and see how you are. If you're feeling up to it, I'll let them in. Otherwise, it's dreamless sleep and some much needed rest."

Hermione nodded her head in appreciation at the Medi-witch, then leaned back into her pillows and closed her eyes.

It was several minutes before another word was spoken, and it was the Medi-witch who broke the silence. "Can you spread your legs for me, please? I only have one more thing to check."

Though she masked it well, Hermione noticed the sharp intake of breath from the Medi-witch. Opening her eyes she nervously asked what the matter was.

"I have not been with the hospital for long, and I'm afraid that I'm not sure how to tell you this; but the rape kit has come back positive."

Hermione sat frozen for a moment before she started to laugh. The Medi-witch looked at her uncomfortable.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken. I just had sex a few days ago, and I think I'd remember if I was raped."

"There's no mistake, Ms. Granger. The tearing and bruising is unmistakable, but along with that I've cast a spell confirming that you've been engaged in intercourse within the past hour." Hermione quit laughing and stared blankly at the Medi-witch. "Perhaps you'd like me to retrieve your friends?"

Hermione merely nodded her head.

It took longer than expected for her friends to re-enter the room. Hermione was sure that the Medi-witch had warned them of her predicament, especially when Harry and Ron came quietly into the room with joint looks on their face that Hermione knew to mean they were plotting murder.

They didn't say anything to her, opting to instead climb onto either side of her bed and wrap her in their arms. She cried herself to sleep.

..

The Medi-witch had insisted she stay admitted at St. Mungos for five whole days before finally releasing her. She spent the first day crying, and the second day in silence. She refused to speak to anyone, including the boys.

By the third day, she was ready to get out of the hospital and put everything behind her. Potions weren't going to brew themselves and she had work today.

Harry had went to get the trio lunch while Ron sat chewing on a treacle tart next to Hermione's bed. It was the third day of her incarceration and she was immersed in Potion Weekly, looking to see if there was anything to invest in. An article on a cure for lycanthropy looked interesting, but there were too many flaws in its manufacture to be reliable. She'd at least wait until the next full moon had passed before giving it any serious thought.

"Why don't you come stay with me, Mione? Luna's always complaining about how we don't have enough guests over. She'd be happy to have you over. I could even take a week or so off work and we could hang out, just like the good old days. What do you say, Mione?"

Slowly she sat her magazine down. "Ron, I love you. But there's no reason for me to go anywhere by my own bed at my own home when I get released."

"But, Hermione…" He tried to argue but she cut him off.

"Do you want to duel me?"

He looked at her as if she'd gone off her rocker. "Of course not, but…"

"And why is it you don't want to duel me?"

"You'd whip the bloody hell out of me, Mione. You know that." He replied, exasperated.

"Of course I would. So why would I need a body guard, when I know more spells than said body guard?"

Rolling his eyes as though it was obvious, "To look after your back, duh."

Her eyes softened and filled with tears, though a tiny part of her whispered fiercely in the back of her head 'Where were you to look after my back three days ago?' But she pushed it down and out. It wasn't Ron's fault. It was nobody's fault but her own. She should have been paying more attention.

Harry and Ron insisted on escorting her home, and while she complained that it was unnecessary she was glad that they did. She was far from being a damsel in distress, but they made her feel safe.

…

Harry and Ron still blamed themselves for her misfortune. Claiming that had they waited on her, none of this would have happened. Which she admitted was probably true, but in the same breath said "You didn't know it was going to happen, and since when have I required a body guard." Both boys had to admit that she was right, especially after she'd set her jaw and refused to hear another word about it. That didn't stop Ron from trying to get her to come stay with him and Luna though.

After safely escorting Hermione to her home the two boys set themselves to the task of enhancing her wards while she took a bath. After emerging from the bathroom she saw the tea service set out on her coffee table and the two boys planted firmly on her couch. It didn't seem like they were leaving anytime soon.

At half past nine, Hermione let out a yawn. Standing, she said her goodnight to the boys and retired to her room leaving them to show themselves out.

…

Hermione had always been an early riser, and this morning was no exception. Anxious to get back to work, she threw on some sturdy work clothes and headed to the kitchen for a quick breakfast.

She'd made it half way down the hall before she heard the snoring.

Hands on her hips she entered the sitting room. "Harry James Potter, what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing on my couch!"

Her bellowing caused him to fall unceremoniously onto the floor amidst a blanket he seemed to have conjured from her chair cushion. Sheepishly, he stared up at her. "Ginny went with the kids to stay with Molly and Arthur for the night. I didn't want to sleep at home alone." The look on his face was screaming 'I'm innocent, don't kill me' but she knew better.

As it was, she appreciated the gesture. "If you swear to go home tonight, then I'll make you breakfast." She didn't quit glaring at him until he relented.

She spent the day down in the basement, filling orders for the different apothecaries she supplied. By the end of the day, she was exhausted.

The next morning she woke to Ron snoring on her couch.

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p> 


	7. VII

**Noir Héros  
><strong>_**VII**_

_It strikes! one, two,__  
><em>_Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch,__  
><em>_Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest;__  
><em>_Would thou could'st make the time to do so too;__  
><em>_I'll wind thee up no more.__  
><em>_~Ben Jonson_

…

"Why must you find a way around it, anyway?" Narcissa asked.

Severus looked at the woman as if she'd sprouted a second head. Lucius merely looked calculating. Finally, "She's right you know. Maybe the way around it is to comply with it." Lucius said.

"That's the most absurd thing I've heard all day." Severus drawled condescendingly.

Severus stayed conversing with the two Malfoy's late into the night, determining the quickest and easiest way of securing a wife.

…

(Bellow is a series of exerts taken from the Daily Prophet, all of which having come off the front page.)

_**War Hero Wishes to Bond With Lucky Witch**_

_It is with an abundance of joy that The Daily Prophet announces to its readers that Severus Snape is in search of a wife. It was from his own lips that this reporter, Rita Skeeter, learned of the news that the double agent from the war against He-Who-Must-Still-Not-Be-Named is in search of a wife. Not only will one lucky witch get chosen to bear the name Snape; but according to the Last Will and Testament of Eileen Snape, Severus Snape's mother, she will also share in quiet a substantial inheritance. He may have been a catch before, but now he is a prize. Turn to page G6 to read more on Severus Snape and his mother's Last Will and Testament._

_**Severus Snape Accepting Applications **_

_Early this morning, Lucius Malfoy was heard announcing to a large crowd of Witches, and a few Wizards, that Severus Snape will be accepting applications towards his future betrothal. Distributed in front of the Ministry were several parchments containing a series of questions. These questions ranged from the age of the suitor, to the nature of the suitors employment, and even went as far as to ask what type of wand the suitor wields. This reporter wonders at the validity of these questions in finding a suitable mate, but it can also be said that nearly every available witch, and even a few untraditional Wizards, are hastily submitting their own application._

_**Severus Snape Inheritance Contested**_

_Yesterday afternoon Dram Torrent and his wife Hannah submitted a claim to the wizardgomment contesting the will left by Eileen Prince. They claim that she was not of sane mind during the drawing of the will, and that any information residing within its pages should not be seen as binding. They have drawn the attention of the court to a previous Will made by Eileen that resided in record. The contents of this Will have yet to be elaborated upon. _

_Severus Snape was unavailable for questioning. _

_Randolph Richley, the executer of the will, was willing to make a statement. "It is with great sorrow that I mourn the death of Eileen Prince [I had] been with the family for several decades. I am certain that at the time, and up until her death, Eileen Prince was in complete control of her mind. I have never met a saner woman."_

_A reporter from the Daily Prophet met with Mr. and Mrs. Torrent, who told a tragic story. "It is an awful thing, losing Eileen; she was like a mother to me. Unfortunately, she did not always think clearly. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Eileen had always been forgetful and she had a hard time staying attached to this world. There were many nights that she sat looking out the parlor window awaiting the son that had abandoned her. She longed for a relationship with Mr. Snape, but in all the years I worked for her he never once came to visit. She had developed a fondness for whiskey, and I find it odd that she would leave such an absorbent amount of her estate to a son who wouldn't even take the time to call on her." Mr. Torrent told the reporter as his wife clung to his arm, letting tears fall freely from her eyes. "We just want for Eileen's estate to be distributed the way we know she wanted it. It hurts my heart to think that she may have been taken advantage of." Mrs. Torrent spoke through a bout of emotion._

_This recent finding brings to question many things, including whether or not Severus Snape really is the man of every woman's dreams._

_**Madame Malfoy Tells All**_

_In an interview with Narcissa Malfoy pertaining to the nature of Severus Snape's ongoing search for a wife, Madame Malfoy tells the eager ears of the awaiting population what type of woman Severus Snape is searching for. "First," She said in an exclusive with a Daily Prophet reporter, "I want to clarify that Severus Snape is indeed searching for a woman." Madame Malfoy went on to tell that, "Severus is looking for a woman who can think on her own. Brains, and a love for books, are a necessity when thinking of a long term relationship with the mysterious man." The Daily Prophet reporter went on to question other specifications that may be required, but was told that neither the length of hair nor the color of a witches eye matters. It seems that Severus Snape's only requirement in a bride be that she's not a complete 'dunderhead'. Before Madame Malfoy departed from her interview, she did manage to drop one tidbit of information for those pinning for Severus Snape's hand. His favorite color is green._

_**Muggles Take Notice: Wizarding World "Gone Green"**_

_It seems that a large percentage of the Muggle world believes in something called World Warming. It was explained to an undercover Daily Prophet reporter that World Warming is caused by the smoke coming from the fire burning inside the metal boxes the Muggle's use as transportation. These contraptions are called cars, and it is wondered by several of the employee's working for the Daily Prophet why the Muggle's would not simply put the fires out seeing as they are causing so much trouble._

_It is by request of the Minister that those venturing into the Muggle world take a greater care in their dress. It seems that several persons have been spotted and photographed in the streets of Muggle London sporting multiple shades of green colored robes. These pictures have been portrayed in several Muggle Prophets, along with being mass distributed through a spider web that the Muggle's have fashioned to connect nearly all of the Muggle population. It is common knowledge in the Muggle world that it was a stunt used to draw attention to the issue of World Warming. _

_In a measure to keep within the bounds of the security laws, the Minister of Magic has declared that no witch or wizard shall be allowed to wear green into the streets of Muggle London. All those who attempt it, shall be finned and sentenced to one week's worth of home confinement. The Minister also wishes to remind all those venturing into any area populated by Muggles, that they are in fact expect to dress in suitable attire. See page D5 for examples of appropriate Muggle Wear._

_**Ginny Potter Rushed to St. Mungos**_

_Late last night, a frantic Harry Potter was seen levitating his wife, Ginny Potter, into the maternity ward of St. Mungos. It seems that after returning home from a day with her family, she began to experience sharp pains in her lower region. At first, she thought the baby was merely being a little feisty, as some magical babies can be, but soon realized that something was not right. _

_Mrs. Potter is not due to give birth for several weeks to come._

_While those closest to the Potter family have been seen coming in and out of the ward Mrs. Potter is in, there has been no sighting of Harry Potter. He has taken up residence in his wife's room and refuses to leave her side. The state of the child has yet to be disclosed, but Mrs. Potter's father, Arthur Weasley, is on record as having said, "Ginny has grown to be a strong woman, and she went through delivery most admirably." Due to the severity of the situation, the Medi-witches on staff had been weary to give Ginny the customary numbing potion in case it caused even more complications. "My new granddaughter will be a fighter just like his parents." He then excused himself from the reporters and returned to his family carrying a bag of what looked like clean cloths. Presumably the cloths were for Harry Potter. In the man's rush to get his young wife to the safety of St. Mungos, he'd left in only his sleep shorts; neither shoes nor shirt clothing his body. (Photographs of this incident can be viewed on page E11.)_

_It is unclear whether the child has made it, but it is assumed that he, based off Arthur Weasley's statement, is fighting for his life. _

_**Is a Madame Snape necessary?**_

_Earlier this morning, a court date was set for the preliminary hearing between Severus Snape and Mr. & Mrs. Torrent. During the courts session the decision to go through with a trial to determine the validity of Eileen Prince's Last Will and Testament will be made based off whether or not Mr. & Mrs. Torrent can show enough evidence to support their claim on Eileen Prince's mental state, or lack thereof. If Mr. & Mrs. Torrent win at the preliminary hearing, not all is lost for Severus Snape. They will still have to go on to a trial in front of the entirety of the wizardgomet and prove that Eileen Prince had in fact been of UNSOUND mind during the signing of her Will. Severus Snape is as elusive as ever in our attempt to get a statement. It is unclear as to whether this is due to grief over the loss of his mother, or anger at the idea of losing out on a fortune he didn't deserve. _

_Two members of the wizardgomet, chosen at random, will meet with both Severus Snape and Mr. & Mrs. Torrent along with their respective attorneys during the afternoon the day after tomorrow. It is rumored that Severus Snape will go into court with not one attorney backing him up, but two. Randolph Richley is rumored to be headed into court alongside Severus Snape and a fierce attorney who is widely known to be in association with the business of the Malfoy Family; both before and after the war with He-Who-Shall-Never-Be-Named._

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p>

**A/N: I hope you liked this chapter, I know the format is a bit different than what's customary. If you have any questions, please ask. I want to make sure I've gotten all the details right and made them clear. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially to all those who've stuck with me even though I'm awful at timely updates.**


	8. VIII

**Noir Héros  
><strong>_**IIX**_

"_Desperate maladies require desperate remedies."  
>-French proverb<em>

…

Hermione had been in and out of Ginny's room at least five times that day. With all the Weasleys, except for Molly, having had to return to work she'd volunteered to stay with her friends. Molly was back at the Burrow with the Potter's other two children, keeping them occupied while Harry and Ginny took care of each other.

"How is the little tyke?" Hermione asked. The baby had been in ICU of St. Mungos since his birth, surrounded by several Medi-witches all monitoring and regulating his vital signs.

Ginny smiled sadly up at Hermione. "Good. She's a tough little bugger." She said with pride in her voice.

Harry nodded his head vigorously, "Just like his mom. Sometimes, I don't know how she does it. Did you know that Ginny gave birth without a sedative? She wasn't willing to bring any more risk to the baby. She could have had one you know, but she wouldn't accept it." Harry was holding onto Ginny's hand.

Hermione smiled at the couple as Ginny made room on the bed for her to clamber up onto. The three of them sat facing each other as Hermione pulled a series of Styrofoam containers out of her bag. "I brought lunch, thought you might be tired of the gruel." The Potter's stared hungrily at the proffered food.

Hermione handed one to each of them, along with chop sticks and little packets of Soy Sauce. As soon as the containers were opened and the smell hit her nose, Hermione had to stand and dash towards the bathroom. Harry, sent by Ginny to investigate, stood outside the closed door to the loo as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the basin. After washing her hands and rinsing out her mouth, she returned to the room where a surprised looking Harry and a worried Ginny were waiting for her.

"What?" She asked.

"You're pregnant." Harry, the-boy-who-was-destined-to-be-blunt, responded.

"Am not, Harry. I've just got a bout of the flue."

"What do you call what you just did then, Mione? Morning sickness ring a bell? I'm pretty sure sensitivity to smell is on the list too."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione responded in a tone of voice that said 'I know what I'm talking about because I've read all the facts'. "It takes roughly four weeks for a woman to show signs of nausea indicating pregnancy. Might I remind you that I've only engaged in," She paused here frowning, trying to decide the best way to term the rest of her sentence. "sex." She chose simplicity. "less than three weeks ago. It's in all the books, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes at her, "And where exactly did you come about these books"

"Well, if you must know. My mother thought she was pregnant during the summer of my fifth year. I read everything I could on the subject."

"So, they were Muggle books?" There was a gleam to Harry's eyes that she didn't like very much, it was the look he always had when he 'thought' he knew something she didn't.

"Well, yes. But I don't see why that would matter. A baby is a baby. Isn't that right, Ginny?" Hermione turned to the woman who was vastly becoming an expert on the subject.

Shaking her head, Ginny responded. "I'm afraid not, Hermione." The girl in question didn't respond, so Ginny elaborated. "The thing that makes a magical baby different from a non-magical baby is the same thing that makes a Witch or Wizard different from a Muggle. Magic. No one knows exactly how a child gets its magic, but one thing that is known for sure is that it happens no later than within the first few weeks of gestation."

"And?" Hermione asked. It was obvious that Hermione had gone into _Knowledge Mode_, and it was easiest to just tell her everything you knew rather than try and make a claim that it wasn't important.

Sighing in exasperation, Ginny continued. "Allot of times, the baby's Magic interferes with its mothers Magic. Not in a dangerous kind of way, but enough that it makes you sick. That's why Witches start feeling nauseous earlier on in their pregnancies; it has to do with magic. All the other stuff that Muggles feel comes later." Hermione opened her mouth to respond before Ginny remembered an interesting fact and cut her off. "That's why in the fifteenth century an enormous number of miscarriages were reported to the Ministry by Pure Blood Witches. It had nothing to do with an incest problem, as a lot of present day Medi-Witches are trying to say. Witches were aborting their babies because they believed them to be squibs. A Medi-Witch, whose name I can't think of, claimed that if a witch didn't feel sick within a week of conceiving, that the child would be born without any magic."

Hermione was quiet for several minutes before she sat down heavily on the edge of Ginny's bed, the Chinese food having been safely put away.

"So, I could be pregnant."

"I know how to answer that." The-boy-who-lived-to-be-helpful responded before marching purposefully out of the room. He returned minutes later with a Medi-Witch in tow.

Hermione eyed him curiously, wondering why Harry looked so pleased with himself.

"Why don't you lie back next to Mrs. Potter and we'll get this matter cleared up, shall we?" The Medi-Witch addressed Hermione.

Well, he was right. This was the quickest way to an answer. Feeling self-conscious, she lay down next to Ginny who had sat up to give her the majority of the room on the bed. Without saying a word, Ginny grasped Hermione's hand and the two of the sat in silence as the Medi-Witch performed a series of spells on her abdomen.

"I believe congratulations are in order Ms. Granger. You're going to be a mummy."

…

Severus Snape strode purposefully into the office of Mr. Henry Gatling who sat behind his expanded desk next to a much younger man named Rex Strang. Strang was at least half the age of Gatling, and Severus could vaguely place him as having been a vital part in the downfall of Voldemort.

Severus Snape detested the media, but it sure helped to lighten his mood when they fed the mass public incorrect information. As it was, the date was exactly twenty-four hours earlier than the Daily Prophet had announced, and there was no mob of eager women to force a path through.

Behind him followed two men, Mr. Randolph Richley and a man who stood equal to his slightly bent over height but double in his weight. Regardless of his size, Mr. Radford Anders stood solid in a pair of finely tailored Wizarding robe and a pair of black dress shoes that's shine matched that of his well-polished head.

"As we are all here, I request an immediate dismissal of all claims and that this trial be thrown out at once." Mr. Anders took immediate control of the situation and while his voice was strong and demanding, the twinkle in his eye let everyone onto the fact that he was enjoying himself.

The Torrents both looking at him with distaste. Their lawyer quickly chiming in, "The merit of this case is sound, as we shall prove most thoroughly. Until all of the facts have been submitted to this court, it would be erroneous to make a judgment." The man was Radford Anders complete opposite. He was tall and thin with thick hair and even thicker glasses.

"Calm down boys. We'll hear both sides of this case in their entirety before making any decisions."

Anders settled comfortably into the chair opposite the Torrent party, while Severus and Mr. Richley sat uncomfortably in theirs.

The hearing lasted for well over two hours, with both sides making claims and disputing the other.

The Torrents claimed Severus never came to see his mother. Anders provided more than adequate proof that Severus Snape had no clue whatsoever that his mother was alive, and that it had been the late Eileen's decision to begin and keep with the tale.

Anders claimed the Torrents were "merely looking to go into early retirement." Their lawyer quickly coming to their defense stating that they were merely looking out for the best interest of the deceased. He claimed that the fact that they stood to gain from the over-ruling of the Will merely adding to their want to rectify an error and that "it most certainly is not the cause." Anders submitted sworn testimony from each of the five women who'd been present during the reading of Eileen Prince's Last Will and Testament. Each recounting a separate occasion in which either one, the other, or both of the Torrents proved to be after far more than just friendship from Eileen. Snape presented the court with his own memory of the Torrents reaction to the Estates distribution. The Torrents objection was overruled.

The Torrents claimed that Eileen had taken to drink and in a drunken stupor written a Will that renounced the one that had been privy too. They claimed that she had been unable to rectify her mistake as she had died the next day. Their claim was dismissed as hearsay. They had no proof and there was no record of Eileen every having been a drunkard.

The Torrents claimed that Severus Snape bewitched the mind of Eileen in order to force her to bequeath him all of her worldly possessions, "He is an accredited Potion Master, don't you know." Anders merely rolled his eyes and stared pointedly at both Gatling and Strang before the claim was thrown out due to 'grasping at straws'.

Finally, after Mr. Richley provided the court with his memories of several interactions with Eileen proving her to have been stable at the time of the creation of the Will, Severus Snape left the court with one worry lifted from his shoulders. Too bad he still had to find a wife.

Lucky for him, she showed up quicker than he'd expected.

…

Severus sat in his private chambers going through the large stack of eligible bachelorette forms. Each one proving to be worse than the last. The first one was a woman by the name of Rose who's OWL's had been lacking but her bust size sure made up for it. She stood bare chested and giggling at him in her headshot. A note stuck to the inside of her folder read "Choose her" In Lucius' handwriting. Below it in an equally recognizable, though much more feminine, scrawl was a single word "Trollop". Severus tossed the folder in the fire.

He hated clingy women, and those desperate enough to bare all to a man they'd never met before were destined to be deemed as such.

The next was a little better; at least she had cloths on. She was forty-seven, though she looked in her early sixties, and lived with her mother. She had: no job, no aspirations, and hated books. On second thought, she was worse than the first. It too went in the fire.

He continued through the stack.

Wants eight kids. Fire.

Looking for a loving life companion. Fire.

Willing to help you find stylish possessions in which to furnish your home. Fire

Fifteen years of age and in his afternoon potions class. Reserved as blackmail.

He continued to go through the stack, but after several hours and making no progress he was interrupted by a knock at his door. Torn between being glad of the distraction and irritated at being pulled from his chore, Severus answered the door.

"I'd like to apply to be your wife." Hermione Granger roughly shoved an application form into his hands and moved herself, uninvited, into his private rooms. "Shut the door so we can talk, please."

"Since when do I take orders, Ms. Granger, from anyone? Especially you." He stood without moving and without obliging her request.

"Since the day you needed a wife, and I needed a husband."

…

_(Flashback)_

_It had been a little over a month since she'd found out she was pregnant. She knew she had choices, but the answer was obvious to her. She was going to be a mother._

_It took her nine days to raise the courage to confront Theodore Nott. Seeing as she'd willingly had sex with him two days prior to waking up unconscious and sullied in St. Mungos, it was reasonable to believe him to have a fifty percent chance of being the father of her child. _

_She showed up to her weekly potion sale without a single bottle of potion. Brewing, even simple potions, was unsafe for the health of her baby. _

"_Where's the box, Granger?" He demanded as soon as she walked in the door._

"_I don't have it, can we talk?"_

_Exasperated, he motioned around the shop. "Can't you see I'm the only one here? If you want to talk, then talk. Try starting with an explanation as to why you're not delivering my potions."_

_Frustrated, Hermione had to bite her cheek to try and keep her temper at bay. "There's no potion because I can't brew. I'm pregnant Nott."_

_Nott glanced at her before turning his attention to straightening his shelves. "So, you've come to tell me I need to find a new supplier. How thoughtful of you. If you could leave now, I have work to attend."_

"_I didn't come here to tell you anything." She ground out between clenched teeth. "I've come to request you submit to a DNA test."_

_It was Nott's turn to look frustrated. "It's not mine."_

"_I'm sorry; I didn't realize you'd mastered the ability to cast wandless, verbal, and invisible DNA charms. Something you do in your spare time?"_

"_Don't get smart with me, Granger. It's not mine because I can't have kids." He nonchalantly went back to his dusting. "I'm not sure what you thought you'd get out of me, anyway. There's no bloody way I'd claim a mud… your child as mine."_

_Her anger getting the best of her she snarled, "Funny, that Mudblood happens to be the woman you willingly slept with not too long ago, Nott." And stormed out the shop. _

_Missing the way his eyes followed her as she left._

…

Finally having convinced him to relinquish his stand by the door and join her in his sitting room, if for nothing other than curiosity, he sat looking through her file. All the while aware of the way her hands were clenched nervously in her robes.

Some of the more obvious and less interesting questions being:

Name: Hermione Jean Granger

Wand Type: 10¾ long and made of vine wood with a dragon heartstring core

And some of the less obvious and more interesting ones being:

Number of Sexual Partners: Three and a half

Nastiest thing you've done to another person: Spelled the word sneak across Marietta Edgecombe in boils in my fifth year of Hogwarts for breaking a solemn vow not to give anyone ANY information of the existence of Dumbledore's Army. To this day, she still wears it across her forehead. It can't be removed.

Amount of times you've succumbed to temptation and cheated on a significant other: One, though I didn't know at the time that I was in a relationship and fail to see how I could be held responsible for something I did not know I was doing.

Looking up from her file, he asked the one thing he'd be loathed to admit he was dying to know. "What causes you to be desperate enough in need of a husband that you come offering yourself to me?"

She calmly stood from her position on his couch, and casting a spell upon herself he watched as a blue glow emanated from her wand and connected with her stomach. "It's not nearly as accurate as the one used at St. Mungo's, but I assure you that the answer is the same. As it is, my child needs a name."

"While uncommon among our society, it has been decades since an unmarried witch has been cast out due to" he paused, looking up from her stomach and into her eyes. "infliction." He finished.

"That may be true, professor, but the stereotypes are still strong. Once news of my predicament gets around, it will become harder to find work. Few people will want to associate with a bastard and his dirty whore of a mother." Her voice held steady throughout her speech, though he noticed a slight flinch towards the end.

"Other than a name for yourself, what is it you want from me?" Severus knew that she was right. The Wizarding World was far harder on women who tried to raise children on their own then their Muggle counterpart.

"A name for my child. I want him named as your heir."

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p>

**A/N: These reviews are making me wonderfully happy, and you know what they say about happy people. They just so happen to update much quicker than those who aren't.**

**Just a little tidbit, but I have another chapter in the works. If you want it supper soon, send me lots of love. **


	9. IX

**Noir Héros**  
><strong>IX<strong>

"That of all people, it should be him; that took her aback. That the heart should settle on somebody like him; that surprised her. But she was so certain about it, so certain."  
>-Alexander McCall Smith (Dream Angus: The Celtic God of Dreams)<p>

…

"To what reason, Ms. Granger, do you ever foresee me accepting any child as mine. Especially one I took no part in making." There were few things a man could be proud of, and his heir was one of them; not that Severus Snape would ever go down on record as of having been proud of anyone but himself.

"Because you need the money."

He glared at her, "I don't know what you think you know about my financial status, Granger, but let me assure you that it is none of your business."

"I know what you get paid as a teacher, Professor, and I also know that the ministry no longer awards a monthly stipend for being a war hero."

"If you feel the need to know, I live comfortably on my salary."

"That may be true, but do you really want to teach until you're old and on pension?" Severus, while known in all the Potion circles as one of the true Masters, had little time for his own research. Even during the summer vacation the Headmistress always found something she was in need of him completing, and his contract insured he was obligated to comply with her demands. His lack of financial stability made it impossible to go into private practice. His pride made him too stubborn to ask for help from Lucius. His inability to share made it impossible to go into business with another person. He was effectively stuck as the Potions Professor for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by his own arrogance.

Pointing at the stack of applications on his coffee table, he asked "Out of all those witches pinning to be my bride, there's bound to be at least one viable candidate. What makes you think I'd rather have you over her?"

Hermione was silent as she chose her next words carefully, "It's very unlikely that you find a witch who's marrying you for anything but your money and your title." Severus opened his mouth, anger in his eyes, but Hermione continued. "It stands to reason that in the likely chance of your divorce, they'll take with them a hefty sum of your money. As you are only marrying them in order to get at said money, I have a proposition."

Severus sat in angry silence waiting for her to continue.

"You can keep it all."

Still he said nothing, so she pulled out a sheet of parchment and handed it to him. He read.

Scanning through quickly, he was shocked to see that it was a prenuptial agreement.

"All it needs is your signature." She interrupted his thoughts.

Finally he said, "I don't know what kind of man you think me to be, Ms. Granger. But, I'm not one to make decisions lightly."

"No, I'm sure of that fact, Professor. Which is why I took the liberty of delivering a copy of that document to a Mr. Radford Anders earlier this morning."

Severus quirked an eyebrow at her and she sheepishly admitted, "I saw a Mr. Randolph Richley associated with your name in the Prophet. I had first attempted to offer it to him, but he directed me to Mr. Anders saying you had recently put him on retainer."

"Stay here." Severus said, before heading towards the floo. "And don't touch a bloody thing."

…

It wasn't long before he can back through the fire, but it did give Hermione adequate time to investigate her surroundings. His décor left much to be desired when expecting to see the private rooms of 'the Greasy Git'. As it was; his green couch was comfortable to sit on, the fire was warm, and the brown rug was thick and soft beneath her feet. One thing that was as she'd expected, was the cleanliness of the room. There wasn't a speck of dust where it didn't belong, and everything was in its rightful place. There were no photos on the mantel, and no paintings on the wall. His rooms somehow managed to be warm and comfortable at the same time as they were impersonal and unwelcoming. The fire roared to life and the bat returned to its cave.

Following him through was the man she'd met earlier that morning; though his clothes, which had been perfectly pressed and hanging straight on his body, were now noticeably disheveled. "Good evening, Ms. Granger." He greeted her.

She inclined her head, "It's nice to see you again."

"Professor Snape informs me that you've brought to his attention the document you produced to me this morning." He made himself comfortable in a chair, forcing Hermione and Severus to share the couch. "I've fully reviewed it and find that everything is in order."

Pulling said document out of his briefcase, he began to recount its details. "It states here that in the time that your union," He stared pointedly at both Severus and Hermione. "all assets obtained by Mr. Snape shall remain his sole property. He will keep both the entirety of his inheritance, along with any monies or possessions acquired during your matrimony. You, Ms. Granger, are required to liquidate all assets belonging to you prior to the union and have them sealed in a vault until such a time as a divorce is deemed imminent. In essence, this document will leave Ms. Granger with nothing greater than what she entered into it with. All she asks is that any child born during your union is named your heir and has an equal share to 200000 galleons, as stated in the trust fund left to them by Eileen Prince." He paused to clear his throat. "If any child is born to Severus Snape that is not belonging to Ms. Hermione Granger, then their portion of the 200000 galleon due to them must be compensated for by a lump sum delivered to them out of Mr. Snape's Estate."

Hermione nodded her head as Severus sat looking calculating, Mr. Anders continued. "As it is, Mr. Snape is safe guarded from having any," he looked with distaste at the document. "surprises along the way. Ms. Granger has taken it upon herself to swear faithfulness to her future husband that shall be enforced by a series of charms placed at the time vows are take. She also ensure that she will comply with every stipulation set in Ms. Eileen Prince's Will until such a time as Mr. Snape feels he wishes to make other arrangements. " Mr. Anders looked between the witch and wizard sitting silently on the couch. "As money goes, Professor Snape, you can't go wrong with this backing your wedding; it's a far better deal than you stand to get out of any other witch."

Hermione sat looking confidently at Severus, "I've already signed sir."

And so, with a quill and a bottle of ink in his hand, Severus Snape gained a fiancée in one Ms. Hermione Jean Granger. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he kicked both girl and attorney out of his rooms and set about to get thoroughly pissed on Fire Whisky and Ice Vodka.

…

Hermione took the liberty of sleeping in for the first time in years. It was two days after Severus had signed the prenup, and she wasn't surprised that she hadn't heard from him.

She never heard the woman enter her home, and she would never be sure how exactly she'd managed to breach her wards.

"Now dear, one mustn't waist the day away when there are important matters like planning a wedding to deal with."

Hermione gave out a little screech as she saw Narcissa Malfoy in her Bed chambers. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, I've come to help you plan your wedding." The blond woman replied before disappearing out of the room.

Filled with curiosity, and a little bit of nervousness, Hermione got up and quickly dressed in appropriate attire.

She found Narcissa sitting daintily at her kitchen table in front of a platter of fruit, cheese, bread and a selection of sliced meat. "I suggest the niffler meat on a slice of pumpkin bread, it's just divine."

…

An hour later found Hermione seated next to Narcissa and having her fingers and toes polished. "As I was saying, it's lovely that Severus is finally getting married. He's been a bachelor for far too long. I was just delighted when I found out he'd chosen a bride."

Hermione looked at the other woman in confusion, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful for your," Hermione bit her lip as she searched for the word. "acceptance, but I would not have expected your family to see me as a suitable bride for… anyone."

Narcissa sighed and the happy mirth that had lit up her face slowly drained away, "I'll admit that my husband was less than pleased when Severus told us the news, as it was a bit difficult for me to accept as well. But, in the interest of my families' ongoing friendship with Severus, we've chosen to support his decision. Of course, my husband and I both knew that the time was coming that our ways would no longer hold true; and now is as good a time as any to embrace the changes." The Malfoy's may be willing to overlook the union of the Snake and the Mudblood when it was Severus to be wed, but she was not fooled for a second into thinking that had it been Draco making the decision to marry into a lower social status, the youngest Malfoy would quickly find himself locked up somewhere far away from the light of day and Prophet Photographers. Putting this behind her Hermione chose a lovely shade of rose nail color, Narcissa opting for a deep emerald green, and the rest of the day was spent receiving various beauty treatments.

The aftermaths of the war had left the Malfoy family in distress. Severus had spent several unconscious nights at St. Mungos, and the Malfoy family had been incarcerated. Harry had ensured Severus' innocence, and upon the man's awake from his fight with death, Severus had given adequate proof as to the Malfoy's double roll in the war. Lucius had found out about Severus' roll as a double agent, and helped feed him information thus ensuring that Voldemort never became suspicious of Severus allegiance. Severus may have been the one standing in the fire, but Lucius had ensured that the burning be kept to a minimal.

Lucius may have believed in the power of blood purity, but even the followers of the Dark Lord had known he was unstable.

The two women ended their spa day back at Hermione's home, where they were greeted by a towering stack of catalogs and an even taller black clad man.

_I'm going to have to put some serious work in enforcing my wards._ Hermione thought, before she remembered that she would have to sell her home.

"It seems, Ms. Granger, that Mrs. Malfoy doesn't know when to keep her nose out of other people's business."

Rolling her eyes, Narcissa turned to Hermione. "Why don't I go make us some tea?" Before responding to the man's scathing remark. "As it is, Mr. Snape, if I hadn't stuck my nose where it would be most useful you wouldn't have come to stop me. And there is no doubt in my mind that you would have stayed shut up in that castle you work at for months before putting anything into motion. I would think that under the circumstances, it would be best to have it taken care of sooner rather than later." She stared pointedly at Hermione's stomach before leaving for the kitchen.

Neither said anything until Narcissa called pleasantly from the kitchen, "Start talking or I'll be forced to lace your tea."

Severus rolled his eyes and Hermione broke the silence, "Does she know about…" letting her voice trail off.

"I'm assuming you mean the terms of our arrangement, and your predicament." Hermione nodded her head. "Yes, both she and Lucius are fully aware of the reason for our impending nuptials."

"I find that it is prudent we marry sooner, as opposed to the later. Unfortunately, as pregnant witches are prone to do, you will start showing. And I will not have a child out of wedlock, nor will I have any rumors towards my" he paused, his forehead creasing and his lips pursed together, "heir's paternity."

"You do realize that I'm already two months along." Hermione responded.

"All the more reason to get this over as quickly and painlessly as possible."

Hermione's brow furrowed, as it often did when facts didn't fit precisely together. "Won't it be obvious when the child is born roughly seven months into our marriage?"

"No." He said, but refused to elaborate. He enjoyed the frustrated look on her face, and the spark of confusion in her eye.

"Not if you don't set the birth to record for at least a month after its arrival, and claim it to be premature. It's not uncommon for a Witch's first child to be born a few weeks early, Draco was. All you have to do is fool around with the facts a little, and stay out of the public eye for a while after the child is born." Narcissa clarified as she came back into the room, empty handed. "As it is, it slipped my mind that you don't own an elf. A pity really. But, I don't make tea."

Sighing, Hermione left the room to bring a kettle to boil. The three of them settled uncomfortably into chairs in her living room and discussed both the size of the upcoming wedding and the date it would occur over steaming cups of black tea and large sugar biscuits that Hermione had made the day before. Neither Severus, nor Narcissa touched the biscuits.

…

To say that they argued over the wedding plans would be a bit of an exaggeration.

Narcissa wanted there to be a large ceremony. Severus said no.  
>Narcissa wanted to have a reception. Severus told her he wouldn't show up.<br>Narcissa wanted to throw a party to announce their engagement. Severus chocked on his tea.  
>Narcissa wondered at what type of rings they were going to exchange. Severus glared at the floor.<br>Narcissa asked for the wedding to be at Malfoy Manor. Severus relented with an inclination of his head.  
>Narcissa wanted to invite the entire Hogwarts Staff. Severus threatened her life.<p>

As it was, Hermione barely took part in the conversation. Narcissa brought up the details and made suggestions, and Severus told her they were merely frivolous trim put on an unpleasant day. Not that she minded; it wasn't like she was looking forward to becoming Mrs. Severus Snape.

By the end of the night they had settled on a date, delegated the issue of sending out invitations to Narcissa, and Hermione was expected for tea the next day at Malfoy Manor.

They had three days to prepare for the ceremony.

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
><em>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<em>

**A/N: Again, everyone who reviewed is wonderful, especially those of you who comment on every chapter. **

**Look forward to another chapter in the next few days, perhaps even sooner. And keep on reviewing!**

**And remember, if I make a mistake, send me a PM. I want to fix them.**


	10. X

**Noir Héros  
>X<strong>

"_We always thought we'd look back on our tears and laugh, but we never thought we'd look back on our laughter and cry."  
>-Unknown.<em>

…

Hermione was woken on the morning of November First by two very angry men. One of them waving a sheet of parchment in her face.

One angry voice saying, "What in the bloody hell has he done to you?" Followed by another equally angry voice, "He better not have touched you!"

Groaning, Hermione tried to burrow farther into her covers. It barely even classified as morning yet, and Hermione did not want to face those voices yet. But, as she struggled to keep her head under the blankets, they were pulled off from her at her feet.

Sighing, she sat up.

…

**Severus Tobias Snape**

**Hermione Jean Granger **

**Invite you to witness their bonding ceremony**

**They will exchange vows on the **

**Third of November **

**At two o'clock**

**On the grounds of**

**Malfoy Manor**

…

She'd forgotten that Severus had put Narcissa in charge of the invites, that woman sure didn't procrastinate. It had only been a few hours since she'd left her sitting room.

"Alright. Alright!" Hermione exclaimed. "Sit down already." The two boys sat on the edge of her bed wearing identical expressions of both concern and anger.

Hermione explained her situation, begging them to understand. But, as she'd expected, it was Ron who first stood up in a furry. "You need to think about what you're doing, Mione. This is bloody mad. That bat will lock you in the dungeon until he has no more use for you." She tried to interject, but he had already worked himself into a snit. "I don't care that he's a bloody war hero, he's a right evil git." He stood pacing furiously.

"It's really not our decision, Ron." Harry tried to reason, but Hermione took note of the distress in his voice. "She's got to do what's best for herself." Harry didn't like the situation either, but he wasn't going to isolate Hermione so that she felt she had no one to turn to but Snape. He'd just wait for her to come to her senses; he'd find a nice divorce attorney and wait.

"Well I don't see why she can't come stay with me; I've got plenty of money to support a baby." Ron replied.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione countered, "You seem to have lost sight of the fact that you're in love with Luna and looking to start a family. She hasn't even said yes yet, and you're going to move another woman and her child into your home. Are you going to claim the child as yours too? Because that's on the top of my priority list. I don't want my child raised a bastard." She could see the wheels turning inside Ron's head.

"Lunna will understand." He tried, but Hermione ended the argument with, "I'm not going to come between you and you're having your own life." With an expression on her face that let both boys know she wouldn't hear another word on the subject.

"Then why can't you stay with Harry? He's been with Ginny for ages and it's not like they would mind having a baby around." He tried again.

Hermione didn't even give Harry a chance to say anything, "Harry has his own life too, and is Ginny's husband. His job is to take care of his family, not to look after me."

"But you're our family too." Harry finally said, but Hermione just shook her head.

"I know I am, but this is something I need to do for myself. And my child." Hermione said with conviction. Ron's shoulders finally slumped down in defeat, looking as though he'd aged ten years in five seconds. He and Harry both knew that when Hermione said something in that tone, there was no stopping her. It was the same tone she used to use when making them study for their NEWT's.

"I just don't see why you're marrying that git, Mione. I don't see how he could be good for anyone. Much less a little tyke."

Hermione didn't say anything to him, as there wasn't really anything she could that would make the situation any better.

Ron left ten minutes later for a meeting with his team, and Harry followed soon after; but not before saying, "I know one person that's gonna be right pleased about this. Ginny. I'd expect her for dinner if I was you." Then he too was gone; off to the Burrow.

Isabelle, as the newest addition to the Potter family had been named, turned out to be even more of a fighter than the Potter's had though. She pulled together, with the help of a few potions to help with the final developments of her lungs. Molly had insisted that Ginny move back in, along with Harry and the two elder children, so that she could help while Harry was at work. Ginny had insisted that it was unnecessary, but one look at the red headed young mother and anyone could tell that she was exhausted. Harry was glad that they'd gone.

…

Hermione was never one to spend a large amount of time on getting dressed. She was fine in whatever she had on as long as it was clean and matching. But, when it came to dressing for an afternoon with Narcissa Malfoy; she ended up with every article of clothing she owned strewn about the room and still no idea as to what she was going to wear.

Her hair was neatly piled on top her head, and small diamond ear rings lit up her ears. Her make-up, while barely noticeable, accentuated her features and hid the slight wrinkling around her eyes. She loved Wizarding make-up. It could do so many things that Muggle make-up was unable to. She would have been ready to go, had she had clothes on. As it was, she was staring at herself in the mirror wishing she had a larger chest and rounder hips. _It's no wonder Harry and Ron are always treating me as if I'm another one of the guys. I look like one,_ she thought.

"It's not so bad as all that, love. Try the teal robes; they bring your eyes out." Hermione wasn't the biggest fan of talking mirrors, but the full length one she had in her room was pleasant enough. The one in the bathroom was another story, she'd cast a silencing spell on it years ago and still refused to remove it.

She went with the mirror's advice.

It was half past one when she arrived at the Malfoy's. She was right on time and Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for her in the parlor.

…

"No. No. No. The bodice is all wrong, the material doesn't hug her the way it should. Show me the next." After tea, Narcissa had taken Hermione into one of the Manor's many rooms where a woman dressed in paisley robes stood next to a small platform. Narcissa had then announced that they would be choosing a wedding gown for the evening. They'd already been through a dozen dresses, each one having been thrown out by one woman or the other; sometimes both.

Trying on clothes in the Wizarding World was much simpler than doing so in the Muggle world. Instead of sifting through clothes crammed on hangers and racks, a Witch merely took to a catalogue. It was much easier to turn pages in a book, then to have to rummage through stacks of material. When locating one you like, it was a simple matter of touching your wand to the paper and then 'flicking' the clothing onto yourself. Of course, when you had as much money as the Malfoy's, you paid someone else to do the flicking; hence the woman in paisley robes. The clothes were not permanent, however, and you had to place an order to either have them made or have them retrieved from the backroom of the establishment you were in. In the case of Hermione's wedding gown, it would be delivered the next day. That is, of course, if she ever managed to choose on.

Hermione stood on the dais in nothing but her knickers and bra, very self-conscious at being displayed in such a manner in front of a woman whose appearance was so flawless. Narcissa's platinum hair and bright blue eyes paired with her tall slender body and soft curves; gave the woman a look that Hermione could only place as being 'fairy like'. And not the nasty little buggars that tended to hang around her potion garden, but rather those of Muggle creation.

"How about this one, it's not traditional. But neither is your marriage to Severus." Ally, as the woman in the paisley robes was called, quickly cast the dress upon Hermione's frame. Narcissa was right, it was far from traditional.

The deep crimson thread lining the seams and the delicate embroidery on the bodice in the same color would have been enough to cause a scandal had she been marrying in the Muggle world. But add to that, the silk fabric was the color of soft Ivory. The neckline was modest enough, only hinting at there being womanly curves beneath. It was a far cry from the conservative gown Hermione had once found buried in the back of a closet when she lived with her parents.

It was beautiful, though. The silk was thin and flowed freely from an empire waistband, ending in rivets around her feet. The dress was strapless and held on by a mild sticking charm, but her arms were covered in softly flowing lace that matched the color of the silk. It was breathtaking, and Hermione loved it. So did Narcissa.

Not having said anything since the gown had been placed on Hermione's body, Narcissa looked to Ally and said, "Have it ready by tomorrow morning." Ten minutes later, Hermione was redressed and sitting back in the parlor going over the details of her upcoming nuptials.

In the end, Hermione had opted to leave most of the decision making to Narcissa. Hermione didn't care about what the centerpieces looked like, or what color petals the aisle would be lined with. She just wanted to get it over with.

Turns out, that may have been a mistake.

…

The day before his wedding found Severus Snape alone in his bedchambers looking over a notice he'd received that morning from Mr. Richley.

_Professor Severus Snape,_

_First, let me wish to you every happiness tomorrow in regards to your marriage with Ms. Hermione. I'm very pleased that you've chosen to comply with the terms of the Will. I received an invitation to attend, and am sorry to have to decline. I have business to attend dealing with Eileen's Estate. Don't worry; all shall be in order sooner than I thought. Please send my regards to the lucky lady, I've seen her photo in the Prophet and am sure she will make a lovely bride._

_Sincerely,  
>Randolph Richely. <em>

_P.S. Please send word by owl if you will be free on the evening of the fifth of November to discuss your inheritance. I hope this gives you enough time for privacy with your, as she will be by that date, wife but that it also does not impede any honeymoon plans you may have made._

Severus glowered at the word 'honeymoon'. He'd almost been able to forget that he was going to have to sleep with the bloody chit.

Inside a sealed envelope that had accompanied the missive, he found a matching set of wedding bands along with an engagement ring made of a platinum band that was fashioned to look like a snake looping around and curling upon itself as the setting for a large emerald. The snake slithered around restlessly, as though uncomfortable at not having a finger to rest on. Its eyes flashing with small rubies. It looked delicate in his slender hand.

Along with it was a note, merely reading, _this belonged to your Grandmother._

Severus had nearly forgotten to get rings.

Thinking on it. He placed the rings in the inside pocket of his coat. He would have to visit a jeweler later that day, there was no way he was placing a family heirloom on Ms. Granger's grubby finger. But for now, he had some business to take care of with the Headmistress. He'd been looking forward to quitting his job for many years.

…

Minerva sat in her office, expecting his arrival. If she was honest with herself, it was a long time coming. Everyone knew he hated his job. Still, she was loath to see him leave. She was prepared. The paperwork had already been drawn, and a past student having just finished acquiring his Mastery was eager for the job. Everything was in place; she just had to wait for Severus to build up the courage to meet with her. Her hand itched for the flask of Ice Vodka she had hidden in the drawer to her left. She much preferred it over Fire Whisky, being partial to the feeling of her blood turning to slush in her vein as opposed to the effects of Fire Whisky. She could only take so much of feeling as though she was on fire.

She stilled her hand before it reached the handle, her door burst open. Severus Snape marched unannounced and without warning into her office.

"It may come as some news to you, Severus, but I've chosen to step down from my post as Headmistress." Severus didn't look surprised at all. "Finalizing the termination of your contract will be the last thing I do."

They went through all the paperwork, Severus must have signed at least a dozen places, ending the night discussing the war and all its consequences.

"I'm proud of you, you know that." She said. "You're a good man, Severus, and you deserve all the happiness you can find."

Narcissa had managed to send every member of staff an invitation to his wedding, save for one. Professor Trelawney had not been invited. Narcissa, ever the Slytherin, pointed out that she had complied with his wishes. She hadn't, after all, invited _all _the staff. Thus, it would be unjustified to take action against her. While Severus rarely did 'nervous' he had been concerned as to the Headmistress' reaction.

He kept his tongue, choosing to stare into the fire rather than respond.

"While I'll admit I was surprised to see that invitation, I can't say that I wasn't pleased." She went on, causing Severus to turn his attention back to her. "Ms. Granger has always been a bright young woman. I dare say she's one of the only women whose intellect and love of knowledge could match your own."

It was several minutes before Severus responded, "You may have finally gone off your rocker, Minerva. As it is, I have never been quite as annoying as Ms. Granger manages to be on a daily basis. Our union is purely strategic."

She shook her head with a look of sadness in her eyes, "I'm sorry to hear that, Severus. I truly am."

They were quiet for several moments longer before she spoke again. "I don't blame you for Albus' death. I know better than anyone how he can be, and I'm sorry I ever took my sorrow out on you."

He didn't know what to say, so he responded with the first thing that came to his mind. "I'm used to being made a scapegoat."

For the second time that evening, Minerva shook her head in sorrow. "And I'm sorry that I never stood up to Albus. I should have been there for you." Minerva stood from her chair, her knees popping in the process, and held her hand out for Severus to take. "But now, its late. I'm not as young as I used to be and my body doesn't hold up the way it used to." Minerva fondly patted his wrist before escorting him out of the room. They both said their goodbyes, and Severus went back to his rooms to pack.

…

3 November

_**Wizarding World Mourns the Loss of Headmistress.**_

_Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, departed from this world late last evening. Her body was discovered by a distraught House Elf who'd only come in to change the sheets. She was found holding a bottle of Ice Vodka in one hand, and a framed photo of what seems to be her and Albus Dumbledore at a bonding ceremony. There has yet to be any news as to the cause of her death, but it is believed to be that she died of natural causes and a broken heart. _

_Turn to page B4 to read more on rumored secret union of __Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore __and Minerva Gytha McGonagall._

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p> 


	11. XI Hermione's Wedding

**Noir Héros  
><strong>_**XI - Hermione's Wedding Day**_

"A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality."  
>-Winston Churchill<p>

…

The evening before her wedding, Hermione had sat alone in a room in the left wing of Malfoy Manor. She'd sent a letter to Ginny telling her she wasn't home, and then attempted to drown herself in self-pity. She had never been a drinker, so she did what Hermione Granger did best. She stole into the Malfoy Family personal library.

…

_(Flashback)_

_It had taken her longer than she expected to find the solid wood double doors that lead into the library. _

_They were locked, and her first thought was to return to her bed chambers. She was halfway turned around when a sudden urge swept her body. All she wanted was a book to take her mind away from the thoughts of a life standing next to Severus Snape. Being the rational witch that she was, she acknowledged that the Malfoy's were a very powerful Wizarding family, and if they wanted to keep you out of somewhere they could be quite successful at doing so. 'Perhaps they only lock it in habit.' She thought, and decided that if she could open it with a simple unlocking spell, the she would enter. If not, she would return to her rooms to spend the rest of her evening in mourning of her loss of independence._

_A whispered "Alohomora" and she was in. She didn't even notice the man sitting in the shadows of the dying down embers of a magnificent fireplace on a pristine sofa. But, he noticed her. Icy blue eyes followed her as she scanned the book shelves with wide eyes, the softly lit tip of her wand barely bright enough for her to make out the words._

"_Teaching your child to share in your disregard for rules early, I see." Hermione whirled around to face the voice, almost dropping her wand in the process._

"_I. uhm. Well. No one told me I wasn't allowed in here." She finished quickly. Her words jumbled together._

_Malfoy senior raised his right brow. "No, I suppose they did not. Though I wonder at the type of people you choose to associate with in which a locked door means an invitation for exploration." _

_Hermione stood silently, her hands held tight to her sides trying to hide the fact that they were shaking. _

_Lucius turned and went back to the sofa. "It is a dreadful way to spend the eve of your wedding, alone in a library. Sit and have a drink with me." His voice was low and even as he poured two tumblers of spirit._

_Hermione, her feet working of their own accord, denied the glass but joined him on the couch._

"_When the news first reached me, I had seen the potential the requirements of Madame Prince's Will possessed." He continued. "Narcissa has made my life far more fulfilling than had I been forced to live it alone; I wanted that for Severus." He took a drink from his glass, all the while maintaining eye contact with the younger woman. "I see now, that his union will bode far less attractive than I had initially foreseen. You may be many things, Ms. Granger, but a useful wife to Severus you will never be." Taking a breath, he set his glass down and finished. "It was a terrible thing, learning that Severus had chosen to take you for a wife."_

_As she spoke, her words were firm; though it was hard to mistake the slight shimmer of discomfort in her eyes. "I was unaware, Mr. Malfoy, that wives were chosen merely for their usefulness."_

_Lucius, smirking coldly and rising fluidly to his feet before continuing on to say, "Then you were ill informed, Ms. Granger. It is only for the usefulness of the woman that a pleasant bond can be made with a man."_

_Standing up so as to not be towered over, she replied. "Then I pity Narcissa for having you as a husband, sir, if you find nothing more in her than her use." Upon standing, Hermione realized that her short statue barely made a different. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I think I'd best return to my rooms."_

_He waited until she'd reached the door, her back turned to him; "It is suggested, Ms. Granger, that you remain in your courters until daybreak. It would be an awful thing if Severus had to postpone his inheritance in search of a new bride, though it is my opinion that it would be best for him if you did elect to venture around."_

_Straightening her back, she continued out the door; making a hasty retreat to the rooms Narcissa had set her up in as soon as she was sure he wasn't watching her. She didn't stop to think until she had striped herself of her cloak and clambered back into bed. The fear of being alone in the same room as Malfoy Senior being overcome by her anger at his audacity. He was a bastard of a man, and it didn't help that he was one of the few people she was still fearful of. _

_She didn't care what the wizardgomet had decided about the man, she was sure he enjoyed every war crime he had partaken in._

_(End Flashback)_

Now, she stood in front of a wall of mirrors preparing for her debut. She was dressed, and the stylist had just finished her hair and put the final touches of make-up across her face.

Narcissa entered the rooms with a small velvet box in her hands, "I took the liberty of picking these out for you. I hope they come to your satisfaction." Upon opening of the box, Hermione found a matching set of jewelry. The necklace was simple and elegant; it looped around her neck before it plunged down her chest. The stones were bright and clear, shining with light. If you looked close enough, it seemed as though a blue flame was alight within each gym. The earrings were tear dropped, and matched the necklace in both elegance and value. They were breathtaking, and Hermione tried to return them.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I can't accept these." She attempted to place the box back into the other woman's hands. "They had to cost a fortune." But the woman merely pressed them back into her own.

"It doesn't matter to Professor Snape..." She tried, but the other woman cut her off.

"It matters to you. This is your wedding as well as his. Now put them on, it's time to go." Narcissa's voice was sharp and brisk; she spoke in a tone that only aristocrats seemed to be able to master. She was tired of the conversation, and letting Hermione know so.

Not wanting to offend Narcissa, Hermione placed on the jewelry. She could feel the sticking charm take place as the items where secured, and there was little doubt in Hermione's mind that they would not come off unless she was the one to unfasten them.

As soon as she was finished; she was swept out the door, down the stairs, and disillusioned so that she could cross the courtyard without being seen.

She took the time to view what was to be her first wedding.

Narcissa had accomplished far more than what Hermione had expected her to have time for. It seemed that not a single detail had been overlooked. There were rows upon rows of dark wood benches, each one filled with over a dozen people. There had to be at least five-hundred in attendance. She felt the urge to run.

The aisle she would walk down was lavishly covered in deep navy rose petals. Magicked to stand hard underneath her feet, thus reducing the chance of tripping.

There were flowers everywhere, all in deep shades of red and brightly shining silver

Severus Snape stood stone faced and wicked eyed waiting for her to join him. He was dressed in fine robes signifying his house, though the green was significantly darker than that of the House of Snakes.

It would obvious to all onlookers that a Slytherin was marrying a Gryffindor. She had to admit that the colors went well with each other.

She stood at the end of the aisle and Narcissa was replaced with Harry. But, before he could speak the music began, and she felt the disillusionment lifting off her person. All voices instantly hushed, and all eyes were on her.

Harry escorted her down the aisle, standing in for the father who she'd still been unable to locate.

After what seemed like thirty pews, Hermione caught site of one that was overcome by red hair. Every Weasley was in attendance, along with their respective significant others, and she felt tears begin to pour out from her eyes, hidden from view by her veil. She was unable to wipe them away for fear of being seen – they were the only family she had in attendance.

A space on the front pew, where Severus' mother would have sat, was reserved with a card that read, _'Reserved: Minerva McGonagall'_.

As Harry handed her over to Severus, there was an explosion of light to her left. A reporter had managed to get an invitation (or at least Narcissa had conveniently looked in the other direction as he snuck into the party), and the wedding of Severus Snape and Hermione Granger would make the front page of tomorrow's Prophet.

…

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to rejoice in the wedding of Severus Tobias Snape and Hermione Jean Granger. This is an ancient and sacred right, the beginning of Severus and Hermione's joint lives together. Everyone standing witness today in this holy union has played a part in modeling their lives as individuals, and shall continue to help mold their relationship together."

The ceremony continued, but Hermione was unable to pay attention to his words. She watched as Severus' mouth moved, forming the words 'I do', and responded in the same manner when his grip on her hand cut into her thoughts. He slipped a platinum band onto her bare ring finger, and then she was prompted to return the favor. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath coming fast into her lungs. The outsides of her vision were blurred, and her mind was a whirlwind of thought. _It's really happening. I'm becoming Mrs. Severus Snape._

"It is with great honor that I pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant finished, looking at Severus. "You may kiss your bride."

His lips were cold. His mouth was hard. It was a chaste kiss, and far from the fairytale wedding moment she had envisioned as a child. It was far from what all those witches who were pinning for his attention from afar envisioned in their dreams. It wasn't romantic. It didn't give her butterflies or make her knees go weak.

But, what it did do was signify the end of the ceremony. Severus was quick to pull off the dais and away from the crowd of onlookers.

Severus and Hermione exited up the aisle she had just come down to whistles and cheers; then they dissaperated.

Narcissa was furious that they hadn't stayed for the reception.

…

They reappeared at the gates to Hogwarts; Severus drug Hermione deep into the dungeons and warded his door against visitors.

His rooms where barren. There was no sign that anyone lived there, everything she had seen upon her visit to his quarters five days hence was gone. There was nothing in the rooms that signified Severus as its occupant...

The majority of the furniture was gone; empty book shelves and a desk void of all the paper that had littered it five days hence were all that was left standing. The coals had grown cold in the hearth. He continued to drag her into his bedchambers, where he again closed and warded the door. A sconce bathed the room in soft light. With a shove, Hermione landed on the bed.

A whispered, "Nox." from Severus and the room went dark.

Hermione felt the dip of the bed as Severus settled in next to her, and then she was roughly pulled up until she rested fully on the bed. In an instant, he was atop her.

She began to struggle against him, but he settled her. Grabbing her hands and pinning her legs.

"You asked for this wedding, Ms. Grange, bear with the consequences." She quit struggling against him, and felt as he began to lift her skirt up.

"Mrs. Snape." She said quietly. His hands stilled. "My name is no longer Granger."

With a grunt he gave up the task of manually removing her cloths, and she felt as they disappeared from her body, leaving her in nothing but her nickers and the jewelry Narcissa had given her. She hadn't had need of a bra. Her nipples tightened when the cool dungeon air made contact with them, goose bumps covering her body.

He quickly disposed of the rest of her clothing, and it was then that she noticed his pants had already been opened and his manhood was exposed. He was hard and wanting as he roughly entered her body, but he was out again in the next instant. It only lasted long enough to satisfy the terms of his inheritance.

There was no going back now. She was officially Madame Snape and he in turn was bound to her for the duration of their marriage.

…

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p> 


	12. XII  Severus' Wedding

**A/N: I would like to say to all my readers that I am most sorry for every spelling and grammatical error you run across. As I am the only one who sees this story before it is posted, all the mistakes belong to me. I try my best to eliminate them when I find them, but I'm afraid that I sometimes read right over them. I hope you can forgive me for this, and I will do my best to make them as miniscule as possible.**

**Also, I would like to thank the anonymous reviewer who pointed out my mistakes in the spelling of "Daily Prophet". I would not have caught that had you not pointed it out. Thank You.**

**And, thank you to Lunajen323 for catching my mistake. That one was definitely embarrassing.**

**Noir Héros  
>XII - Severus' Wedding Day<strong>

"Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world."

-Albert Einstein

…

He sat alone in the parlor of Malfoy Manor, nursing his second glass of Fire Whisky. He could see the wedding party, his wedding party, gathering together on the lawn. It was repulsive. He'd be bloody sure to get Narcissa back for this; her idea of a small wedding was definitely not what he'd had in mind.

"I can't say that I blame you, Severus." Lucius drawled from the doorway, before settling down on the couch; pouring himself a drink. "Getting yourself plastered before the ceremony."

There was silence, and then he spoke again. "There are far more pleasant prospects when searching for a wife, and plenty of time to find one. You could always change your mind." Severus continued to stare out the window. "As it is, I'm sure that if I were to announce that you were in need of a woman to take Granger's place as your bride, a dozen would show up out of your wedding party alone." It was at that moment that a mob of red hair crossed the grounds. Lucius noticed how his shoulders tightened, and followed Severus' eyes out the window. "After all, no amount of money can be worth marrying into that." He finished. Staring pointedly to the slightly lost looking group of Weasley's.

Finally, Severus looked away from the window and at his friend. His oldest friend. His only friend. "Lucius, I will tell you this once. Stay out of my affairs. My wedding to Ms. Granger is none of your concern. I'm doing what I feel is necessary." Standing, he left to take his place on the dais. His nuptials were about to begin.

He was only accosted once on his way to the podium he was to stand on. A woman, nearing her thirties, blocked his path; a glass of champagne in her hand.

Purring, her chest nearly spilling out through the low bodice of her simple dress, she said, "You're making a mistake, Severus. That girl can never make you happy." She reached out to touch his arm, but he backed away. "I know how to make you happy."

He didn't answer. He didn't have any words. He took a moment to consider her proposition. She was, after all, far more attractive than Ms. Granger.

Large breast, round hips, and long red hair. He had always loved that shade of red hair. It was darker, less orange and more auburn; straight but with a hint of curl to it. It was Lily's hair. That's when he noticed it, the slight shimmer of a glamor. Casting a wandless and silent 'Revelio', her red locks turned honey yellow.

His eyebrows came together, and anger filled his eyes. Instead of answering her, he cast a full body bind on her and walked away. The woman was a slag, and even if she hadn't been; he didn't wish to associate himself with a woman of such loose morale.

…

He stood alone at the dais; he hadn't wanted a best man. He'd even forbidden Narcissa's plea for bridesmaids and a maid of honor. He just wanted to get it over with.

Narcissa had been making a statement with the decor; the red and silver theme made it obvious that a Slytherin was marrying a Gryffindor. The colors clashed horribly with each other.

…

The music started.

_She could have been deemed attractive if she wasn't on the arm of that prat_, he thought.

When they'd finally reached him, after what seemed like hours, Harry handed her over. Making contact with the older man, Potter took advantage of the moment. It had taken the boy several years after the downfall of Voldemort to grasp the art of Legilimency, and while he was no master he was still able to get by.

He saw an image of a crying Hermione, which was followed quickly by one of Weasley and Potter advancing on a wandless Severus. The falsified memory only lasted a second, but he understood the point. Potter was telling him that he'd better not hurt the girl.

Smirking to himself, Severus removed Hermione from Potter's grasp and finished leading her up to the podium. He wasn't sure how, but he would be making the boy sorry for threatening him very soon.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to rejoice in the wedding of Severus Tobias Snape and Hermione Jean Granger." Severus' teeth began to grind. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing to rejoice about. "This is an ancient and sacred right, the beginning of Severus and Hermione's joint lives together. Everyone standing witness today in this holy union has played a part in modeling their lives as individuals, and shall continue to help mold their relationship together."

The man continued to prattle on, and Severus sat emotionlessly waiting for him to finish. Everything short of the 'I do' was completely unnecessary.

"Do you, Severus Tobias Snape, take Hermione Jean Granger as your lawfully wedded wife?" At least Narcissa had told the man not to elaborate on the point.

"I do."

"And do you, Hermione Jean Granger, take Severus Tobias Snape as your lawfully wedded husband"

The woman seemed to be in a daze. Severus roughly squeezed her hand.

"I do." She squeaked out.

"It is with great honor that I pronounce you husband and wife." The officiant finished, looking at Severus. "You may kiss your bride."

Hiding a slight grimace, he bent down to his new wife's mouth. Pressing his lips chastely to hers, he quickly pulled away. Her lips had been warm and soft, painted red and smelling sweetly of honeysuckles. That must have been Narcissa's doing, she was the only person (other than Lucius) who knew he had a preference for the smell.

Though Severus did not do 'embarrassed', the ensuing applause was definitely unsettling. He was ready to go. He turned to walk off the dais with Ms. Granger on his arm, but she wouldn't budge fast enough. Irritated, he grabbed her arm and drug her away. He'd overheard a few of the guests discussing the reception, and he wasn't sticking around for it. Narcissa had managed to put her touch on enough of his day as it was.

They disappeared from the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and reappeared at the gates to Hogwarts.

He was no longer a professor at Hogwarts, and as such he no longer received the benefit of courters on the premises.

Ms. Granger still wouldn't move fast enough though, and he didn't want to be seen by any wayward student out after curfew.

…

Once in his quarters, he warded the doors. He never trusted the protection set into the castle walls, and he knew Narcissa well enough to understand that she wasn't about to let him get out of attending a party she'd planned; especially if said party was for him. She'd always been a stickler for propriety.

He only had a few bags to grab before they could leave, but when he caught sight of the bed it seemed so simple. He didn't want to sleep with the bloody chit, and then have her crying on the other side of the bed all night long. If he got it over with tonight, then he wouldn't have to be bothered with her again. He was allowed three blissful nights away from her every month, and what better way to start a marriage than away from your wife.

Dragging her into the bed chambers, he whispered off the lights and warded the door. Severus tended to do so even when he knew he was alone and wasn't expecting visitors. Minerva had once mentioned that the habit was unnecessary, and that she of all people should be allowed access to his rooms; she was Headmistress after all. Severus had been a spy for too many years, and there had been a need to watch his back from both sides. The habit was too ingrained, and he wasn't under the impression that it was detrimental to his health. He locked all his doors twice, and he always would.

It was best to get the task over quickly. He shoved the woman on the bed and killed the lights.

She hadn't landed right when she fell, and as such he was forced to hoist her up higher onto the bed. In one smooth motion she was under him.

She began to struggle. Attempting to shove him off with her hands at the same time she tried to kick at him with her feet. He was forced to put his full weight on her body just to keep her still. She was just as feisty in the sheets as she was in a debate over house elf attire. He almost chuckled, but caught himself. "You asked for this wedding, Ms. Grange, bear with the consequences."

She stilled under him, and he lifted the hem of her skirt.

"Mrs. Snape" She said quietly. He could hear the determination in her voice. His breath caught in his throat. "My name is no longer Granger."

He was still for a moment, contemplating casting a silencing charm on her. He could feel her thin body beneath his thick one. Her soft flesh beneath his sinewy muscles. She felt like a woman. A willing and waiting woman. His member tightened at the thought. If only she could remain silent.

With a grunt, he grew irritated at attempting to remove her cloths. He vanished them quickly, leaving her in nothing but her underclothes. She made it easier for him, though, she hadn't worn a brassier.

He felt as she shivered. He could feel the pimpled flesh as her skin reacted to the cold of the dungeon.

He quickly undid his belt and all the buttons containing him in his pants.

He disposed of his cloths, and not being able to contain himself any longer, he plunged into her. His vision went dark, and his body went rigid. She was so bloody tight. He pulled out as fast as the thought entered his mind. He wasn't about to enjoy this. His wedding night wasn't meant to be pleasant.

Removing himself from her, he recalled her gown and threw it at her.

"Meet me at the bar in The Leaky Cauldron." He said, before leaving the room to collecting his things and his thoughts.

…

When Hermione apparated into The Leaky Cauldron she was met by the sight of a pale Neville Longbottom and an irate Potion's Master. Neville was still unable to overcome his fear of the older man, even though they'd fought alongside each other in the war.

"Mr. Longbottom, I suggest you look a little harder. I'm sure that if you put your mind to it, you'll be able to locate an extra room." Severus drawled dangerously at the other man. Neville was of average height and slightly plump around the middle. He had aged well, though. Him and his wife Hannah Abbot made a very handsome couple.

"N-no sir. There's only the one room left." Neviles's eyes were wide. "There's a qu-quiditch game at the Fire Horn Stadium. All my rooms are booked."

Hermione took pity on Neville, and cut into the conversation, "Hello Neville, what seems to be the problem?" Neville and her had kept in touch, but they hadn't seen each other in roughly a year.

"Hermione! It's so great to see you." Neville took off from behind the counter, and swept Hermione up in his arms. "Thanks for the rescue. The bloody bat's got it in for me, I tell you." He whispered in her ear as he swung her around.

"Mr. Longbottom, I suggest you put my wife down and show us to our rooms." He growled out the word 'our', and it was easy to tell that he was irritated. His drawl was low and dangerous. "It is our wedding night, after all." His words were laced with sarcasm.

…

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p>

…


	13. XIII

**Noir Héros****  
>XIII<strong>

_"Nothing inspires forgiveness quite like revenge." - Scott Adams_

Neville's reaction to their marriage was exactly what she'd expected. His eyes got large and his mouth got small. He didn't say another thing to the couple as he showed them to their room, but he did keep shooting quizzical glances at Hermione when he thought Severus wasn't looking. Hermione was glad Neville didn't have the balls to question them on their decision, and she wasn't surprised that Narcissa had _accidently_ forgotten to send him an invitation.

They entered the room; Severus quickly melted into the shadows and stared coolly out at her. Hermione was nervous and it took everything she had to keep her mouth shut. She knew it would only annoy him if she started asking questions now. She had matured since school and knew when to keep her mouth shut, and getting on his bad side was not something she wanted to do; at least not tonight.

He was the first one to break the silence. "Do you want to sit?" His voice was low, and while he had phrased it as a question it had come out as a directive.

Nodding her head, she quietly sank down into the couch and stared into the cold fireplace. He didn't join her.

He came around to stand in front of her. Handing her a glass of water, he poured himself a large glass of brandy; before settling down next to her on the couch, being careful to stay far enough away from her so as not to let their proximity feel too intimate.

_(Flashback)_

_She had been cooped up in the dungeons with him for nearing on seventy-two hours. They took turns napping in an alcove off the back of the potions room where nothing but a dingy cot and some old blankets took up residence. As an apprentice, she was responsible for making sure the workstation kept clean and tidy and that the supplies never ran out. It meant that she was constantly cleaning up scraps of unused potions ingredients and restocking empty jars. She cut, diced, mashed, and shredded until her fingers were numb – preparing ingredients for him._

_He took his rest during the down-time of what would eventually be a single potion. While he slept, she would meticulously stir at precisely the correct angle. There were cauldrons strewn about the room. Some made of silver, others of glass; some of gold, pewter, and even a small one that held barely a quarter of an ounce of liquid that had been carved from a single diamond. Each one held its own ingredients and had to be tended in precisely the correct way. He was nearly always stirring two potions at the same time and in opposite directions while revising the next step of the potion using wandless magic to mark his corrections on the page. _

_There was an epidemic at St. Mungos. It had yet to become wide-spread, but it had already killed twenty-three people in the past twelve hours. Severus was the closest Potion Master with the skill set necessary to brew the potion needed to cure the disease. Had she not been there, he would have brewed it himself. He had even tried to tell her that her skills were unnecessary, but she had been with him for several years. She was no longer cowed by his bullying behavior. _

_It was her turn for the cot, and she gratefully headed in its direction as soon as he took the glass rod mid-stroke out of her hand and took over stirring the potion; never missing a beat. "Thirty-five" She said, and then turned and disappeared behind the door. _

…

_She blinked her eyes slowly, it was dark in the room but she could just make out his shadow in the doorway. She felt self-conscious under his penetrating stair and was all too aware of the fact that she hadn't showered in far too long. Quickly and silently she cast a cleansing spell upon herself before attempting to stand up, but a shake of his head stilled her and she lay back down. The cot may have been dingy but it was still quite comfortable. _

"_The potion is finished" He said, and she noticed that he'd been to the shower. His long hair hung softly over his eyes, and his clothes were neat and clean; though the cuffs and top button were still undone. _

"_Have they come and got it?" _

"_A little over an hour ago." He replied. His voice was low and raspy, and his eyes glittered out from the darkness._

"_You should have woken me." She had worked just as hard as he had, she should have been there when he handed it over. _

"_They know you helped." That was the last thing either of them said to each other, and thinking back on the moment – neither one of them could remember exactly how it happened. One moment, he was standing in the doorway looking down at her with hungry eyes and the next he was laying next to her on the bed. _

_His tongue was in her mouth, slipping through her teeth and dancing with her tongue. His hands tore at her buttons, and hers pulled his shirt over his head. When she remembered that she hadn't showered in days she tried to protest, but he silenced her with a searing kiss and flipped her from her side to her back and climbed on top of her. She had never been as thankful of a spell since she'd first learned she was a witch – she may not have showered, but at least she was clean._

_His hands were calloused and rough, but there was something comforting in his touch. _

_When they were finished, he stared into her eyes for one breathtaking moment- before standing and leaving the room. He had not lasted nearly as long as she had imagined he might, it was if all those rumors of his celibacy during her schooling having had in fact been true. _

_She had packed her things before they started the potion, and she was ready to leave; her apprenticeship having ended the day before. She searched for him for half an hour, before deciding she was being foolish and heading out the front gate. After all, there was nothing really to talk about. Seeking him out to say goodbye was foolish, and talking about their encounter was irrelevant. She had no doubts that he would claim it to be nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment, and she didn't really want to think about it anyway. It was time to leave and find a shower. She didn't expect to ever see him again, and was convinced that she didn't care anyway. _

_(End Flashback)  
>…<em>

She began to yawn long before he showed any sign of being tired, and so she bid him goodnight. He never looked up from the fire, and merely nodded his head in acknowledgement.

She fell asleep before he came to bed, and woke long after he'd removed himself from her presence. The only thing that let her know he'd even been in bed with her was the fact that his side of the bed was neatly made and his pillow lined up with the headboard. She'd always known he was anal, but making the bed while she was still in it? That bordered on psychotic. It was like he was trying to erase his very presence from the room.

But in some ways it was far better than she had imagined, and their future was much simpler than her childhood fantasies. There was no fear that she would grow older and unattractive in her husband's eyes, because she couldn't care less how he saw her. She wasn't afraid of losing his trust, his respect, or his heart. She didn't want any of those things from him. She didn't have to watch what she said, and when she said it for fear of pushing him away. In fact, it would be preferable if they spend the least amount of time together as possible. She didn't have to mask her feelings or push her anger to the side in order to keep a happy marriage. She didn't want a happy marriage. She could be who she was and didn't even have to shave her legs.

She made her way into the sitting room after pulling on her rumpled clothes, only to find him leaning against a wall neatly pressed and freshly shaved.

"Had I known what a sight you were in the morning, Madame, I might have taken more time in considering your proposal." His face was emotionless, and while his words were harsh his tone was not. His guard was up, and his unease spoke volumes.

"I have no other clothes."

He motioned with his hand to an average sized package sitting by the door. "Perhaps you would like to freshen up?"

…

Severus could count on one hand the amount of gifts he'd given in his life time, and he could use the other hand to count the amount that he had received. As it was, he didn't feel as though presenting his new wife with fresh clothes was so much a gift as a necessity. They had a meeting with Mr. Richley that afternoon and it wouldn't do to have her smell, much less look the way she did. Her makeup was smeared down her eyes, giving her the look of an animal far more suited for life after dark. Her hair, though he could tell she had put up some effort to tame it, was still wild and unkempt. Her clothes… well, he didn't want to think about her clothes.

She exited from the bathroom after taking far longer than he felt was necessary, but at least she came out looking decent. As she walked past him to put on her cloak, also something he had taken the liberty of furnishing her with, he caught the scent of Citrus and flowers.

"Shall we go?" She asked.

"As you wish." He replied, and side-along apparated them to their meeting destination.

…

The meeting with Mr. Richley went smoother than either one of them had anticipated. There had been another person present at the meeting, though he had never said a word. His only duty was to cast the spells on Hermione that insured she'd stay faithful to her new husband and sign on the dotted line as a participant in the sealing of their prenup.

Before they left, Mr. Richley handed Severus a note and a key to his new Gringotts account. Everything was in order, and Severus was a wealthy man.

…

_Things seem to be calming down now, but I still feel as though I can't breathe. Sometimes I close my eyes and push my thoughts away and try to pretend that this isn't happening to me. I no longer feel nauseated, and I don't feel any more fatigued than usual. My ankles aren't swollen, and my stomach isn't protruding. Other than a missed period or two there really isn't anything to show that I'm pregnant. Other than that awful spell that keeps glowing blue every time I cast it, which is at least twice a day. I keep hoping it's just a lie – an awful trick somebody is playing on me – but it has yet to change colors and I've resigned myself to my new position in life. _

_I worry about my future, but mostly I worry about the future of my child. I may not have asked to be a parent but every time I think of the life I am harboring inside my stomach I get a fierce sense to protect it. I worry about how having a father like Severus will affect my child, but I know that I made the best decision I could with my circumstances. Severus Snape may not ever be a nice man, but he was certainly honorable. He may scare me at times, but there has never been a time that I don't feel safe when he's around. _

_We met with Severus' attorney today, or at least we met with Eileen Prince's Will enforcer. It seems that as of today I am a wealthy woman, or at least I am married to a wealthy man. Mr. Richley was an odd man. I caught him looking at my wedding band when we were first introduced; he acted like he was upset to see it there. It doesn't really matter though, as long as Severus and I fulfill the terms of our marriage in such a way that the Will is satisfied, we'll never have to see him again. He made my skin crawl, and I hope I never have to see him again._

…

It seemed to Hermione that it had been a long time overdue since she had last written in her journal, but now that she was expected to live with Severus she felt uncomfortable writing in it. No one knew that she kept it, and if anyone had the motivation and the skill to break through its protections it was him. Severus Snape was known to collect black mail on nearly everyone he could, even if he had no immediate need for it.

…

"What do you mean she didn't have it on?" It was obvious that the man was angry, he was practically screaming at an older man dressed in long grey robes with the hood pulled up.

"It's not my fault. It's not like I could make him give it to her. I did what you said, and now it's time for you to keep up your end of the bargain." The older man wasn't cowed by her temper. He stood firm and kept eye contact with him.

"Then maybe you should try to convince him a little harder, that money is mine and if you want to see a single sickle of it you'll help me get what I want."

"The deal was I deliver the ring, you never said I had to coddle him into giving it to her. If you want me to partake any farther into this plan, we're going to have to renegotiate my price."

"Unbelievable!" The man snarled. "You barely have to do anything, and you're already getting far more than you deserve."

"Perhaps, but we both know that it isn't just about the money. And if you don't renegotiate to something that benefits me a little better I might let something slip. You know how it is when you get old, it's hard to distinguish from the things you're not supposed to say and the things that you are."

The two men exchanged glances, before the younger one said in a much calmer voice than the one he had used to start the conversation. "It seems we may be able to renegotiate after all, but there is something else I need you to do."

"Won't your family be upset with you, seeing as your making deals without them?"

"You let me worry about that, you just do as I ask."

"I'm all ears."

…

_I spent so much time… Writing this, for you._  
><em>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<em>

**A.N: I know that this chapter is long overdue, and I apologize for it imensly. I hope you enjoy it, and I will try to stay more punctual and timely with my updates. **


	14. XIV

Noir Héros  
>XIV<p>

"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell" – Oscar Wilde

…

The morning after their meeting with Mr. Richely, Severus again greeted Hermione freshly washed and immaculately dressed. There was another brown paper wrapped package sitting on the table and he merely inclined his head towards the restroom when she finaly peeked her head out from the bedchambers. Taking her cue, she took her time getting ready and met him by the door.

"Where are we going today?" She asked. Staring up at him in the dark brown robes he had procured for her.

"We are going out." He responded, before leading the way down the stairs.

Rolling her eyes, she followed after him and allowed him to apparate her away to merlin knows where.

…

They reappeared in front of a massive manor home constructed of weathered stone bricks and black iron. Green ivy had taken hold of many of its walls and grew steadily towards the sun. The windows were dark and unwelcoming, giving Hermione the sense that either no one had lived in it for a very long time or that whoever was inhabiting its walls did not care for company.

The lawn was overgrown, the grass reaching up Hermione's ankles and scratching at her calves as she walked with Severus towards the wooden doors that stood solid against intruders. The house took Hermione back to the moments when she was a child and her mother would sit with her in her bed reading stories of sword wielding princes and fire breathing dragons. The house looked to Hermione as though it were a castle that should in fact be guarded by a dragon, and at that realization Hermione's attention was briefly brought to the sky as a dark shadow raced across the lawn. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she took a moment to search the clouds for the very dragon that she was expecting to see, but let that thought escape her mind as she come to the conclusion that it had to have in fact been a cloud crossing the sun.

As they neared the manor, Hermione noticed an odd arrangement of people standing out front and lined up to the left of the door. She counted three men and four women, along with two children and three house elves. They stood at attention and staring nervously at the ground. Every so often sending nervous glances in the direction of the approaching couple.

…

Severus was nervous, though he would never admit it. He was still unsure what he wished to do with the Prince Estate home, but he knew that he did not wish to stay in the company of Longbottom any longer than necessary.

The house staff stood at attention waiting for his arrival. And when he and Hermione had finally come to face them he said the first thing that had came to his mind. "Perhaps I should have brought with me a ruler so as you could measure the length of this grass. Perhaps then you too could see that it is far over grown."

The men looked nervously at each other and then back at him before the braver of the two spoke. His voice was low and the words came out even and slow. It was obvious that he was being careful with the words that he chose. "We do apologize Master Prince-Snape. It was not our desire to displease you in this manner. Your late mother was not-"

Snape quickly cut him off. "As Madame Prince is no longer present the rules of this house will undoubtedly change. There shall be a gathering at the end of the day and duties will be explained in full. Until then, it would please me to see the grass attended to." He had no desire to hear what his mother had been like as she was head of the house, though it was obvious to him that her attention had been slack. "If you would be so kind as to escort my wife and I throughout the manor we can begin to rectify the obvious distress this manor is in." It was the oldest of the four women, in her late fifties with a soft face that took to the job of showing them around.

It took far longer than he had anticipated to see all of the rooms. The home rivaled that of the Malfoy's in size and Severus was unsure how he felt about the large home. The house was broken up into five wings. It consisted of four main levels and a dungeon that plunged deep into the ground going down three levels. The entire house was in a deep state of disrepair except for a half dozen or so of rooms and the courtyard located at the center of the manor. By the time the tour was finished Hermione was out of breath and ready for a break. Not wanting her to collapse and then blame him he asked the older woman, who had introduced herself as Ms. Redding, to bring them lunch and writing supplies to the sitting room. Which she promptly obliged him and then he dismissed her for her own lunch with the orders that she return in the next hour with the rest of the staff to receive their new instructions.

Hermione had been quiet throughout the tour even though he had sensed a multitude of questions hidden in her eyes. He knew that once Ms. Redding closed the door she would be unable to contain them any longer and the damn would break. He wished he had asked for his lunch to be taken in a separate room.

…

Hermione was overcome by everything they had seen, and it was true that she had many questions she wished to ask. Still, she knew how much he hated when she questioned him so she put it off as long as possible. They had made it through their lunch and were sitting in comfortable silence when she finally broke down and asked the one thing that had been bothering her since their arrival "Are we really going to keep House Elves?"

She had expected him to sigh in frustration and to glare at her over his tea, but his actual response startled her into chocking on the sip of water she had been taking. He laughed.

"It is a wonder Madame that your biggest concern is over the wellbeing of a House Elf when your life is in shambles the way it is."

His comment set her face on fire, and the added hormones due to her pregnancy turned her anger into tears. On a rational day she would have let his words brush over her without another thought, however today was not that day. She quickly looked away from him and out of the window before she spoke in as clear a voice as she could. "My life is not in shambles sir. As it is I'm the luckiest witch in the world. I have a wealthy husband who is under contract to provide for me and I in turn have to do nothing to keep him happy. I don't have to worry about what I say in case it upsets you, because I don't care if you're angry with me. I don't have to worry about getting dressed, or bathing, or even shaving my legs because I don't care how you see me. I don't even have to worry about remembering birthdays or picking up Christmas gifts that you will love because I couldn't care less if you have happy holidays." The tears had dried in her eyes before falling down her cheeks and she looked back at the husband she had needed but not wanted. She was about to continue with her onslaught of words and the expression on his face showed that he too had something more to say however there was a knock at the door.

He eyed her angrily and said, "While you may be in what many witches would see as a perfect marriage, you are not the only one to receive benefits from our union. While it is true that I am in contract to provide for you it is also true that in order to get all of the monetary _gifts_ I bestow upon you that you had first been required to spread your legs to me. So what, Madame Snape, does that really make you?"

He did not give her a chance to reply before turning a cold eye to the door, "Come in." It was the staff returning to receive their instructions.

Hermione's eyes had widened at his implication that she was a common whore and the tears returned to her eyes. She quickly left the room after the staff had filled in.

…

Severus had not intended to make the woman angry with his initial comment, nor had he expected such a blow out from her. He'd heard the old saying that pregnancy made a witch crazy and while he had never been witness to this he was coming to the conclusion that it was indeed a fact. After she had verbally attacked him for his momentary insensitivity, he had still not intended to through fuel onto her already raging fire. However it had been the look on her face that had thrown him over the edge. It was a look that showed she thought to be in control of her situation, and sense her situation was a marriage to him it meant that she thought herself to be in control of him. It had made him want to set fire to her hair and send her screaming out the window.

After Dumbledore's well calculated murder and the Dark Lord's unplanned final stand he no longer had a Master and he had vowed to himself that he would never become a slave to another man or devil.

The staff stood uncomfortably in front of him, unsure what to do. The fact that Hermione had quickly left the room with tears in her eyes had not gone unnoticed by them.

Acting as if he hadn't noticed her departure Severus began with his instructions.

…

After running out of the room Hermione had gone down the long hallway and into the entranceway and out the door. She knew that what she had said to him was unwarranted, but did it really warrant him calling her a whore?

She kept going even after she had left the manor. She didn't know where she was going; she just knew that she didn't want to be where she was. She had been out of breath by the time she had made it to the front door so she was no longer running but walking with her head down and not watching where she was going.

Finally, she stopped to sit at the base of a large tree. She could no longer see the Manor she was running from, and the foliage around her was thick and impenetrable. It was a wonder she had made it as far into it as she had and she slowly began to become aware of the small cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs. Taking her wand out of the waist of her robes she began to tend to her wounds: healing the small scrapes and cleaning the deeper cuts. Settling back against the tree she closed her eyes and let herself relax.

'_He's right_' a voice inside her said _'marrying in this way really does make you a whore.'_ Tears had begun to form again in her closed eyes when a sudden noise caused her to open them.

There was a crashing sound off to the distance. It was a sound as if a bear were trampling through the forest and clawing at trees. Hermione's first thought was to go and inspect the sound and had she not been pregnant she might have done just that. However her instincts to protect the tiny peanut inside of her were stronger than her Gryffindor tendencies to seek out trouble. Standing, she quickly headed back towards the Manor. She had made it back to the clearing and could see the Manor in the distance when she ran into a small boy no more than the age of seven. She recognized him as having been one of the children standing to greet them at their arrival and when he noticed her he quickly bent at the waist in a bow. He smiled nervously at her and waited to see how she would react to him.

"Hello" She said "my name is Hermione." Unused to being the head lady of a house, and having had been taken aback at seeing the small boy bow to her she curtsied in turn to him. This caused the boy to give her a crooked smile and a giggle.

She heard the noise again, this time much softer and obviously farther off in the distance and the boy politely excused himself to go after it.

"Wait." Hermione called after him and he turned around to look back at her. "What is that noise?"

He smiled again at her and motioned for her to come with him. "I'll show you if you'd like Madame Snape."

She glanced nervously back towards the tree line unsure whether she wanted to risk it, but her curiosity was winning out. When he offered his hand to her she could no longer resist the temptation to know what was creeping about between the trees and so she took his small hand and said, "Call me Hermione." Before letting him drag her back into the forest. This time, they followed a path she hadn't seen and it wasn't long before they came to the source of all the destruction.

Her initial thought that it was a bear in the woods was not too far from the truth, for it was in fact the size of a bear. However the pure white scales on its body, the forked tail leading off its backend and the wide outstretched wings with the shimmering pale blue underside proved that it was nothing so mundane as the common black bears she had used to fear would eat her in her sleep when her father had forced them on camping trips during her summers back at home during school.

"A dragon." She said breathlessly and the small boy smiled brightly up at her. "Why is there a dragon in the woods?" She asked him. And for the first time fear flickered across his face.

"You won't get rid of him, will you?" He asked her. Unsure what to say, she just shook her head no.

The dragon began to flail around in the small clearing again and it was obvious that it was in distress. Having had spent too much time around Hagrid, Hermione took a step towards the creature and it flung its head around to stair her in the face.

"Shh. I only want to help." She said, noticing for the first time the blood trickling down its side.

The dragon continued to stare her down before the boy said, "She's the new Mistress of the Castle, Mingo." And at the boys words the dragon lowered its head to the ground and allowed her to step closer. Above the joint that connected the dragon's left wing to its back was a stick, half the width of her arm, slowly oozing blood. Mingo, as the dragon was called, had been rolling around and trying to force it out but had only managed to push it farther in. Her initial thought was to pull it out but she caught her hand before she could grab it. What would she stop the blood with?

Taking off her outer cloak she looked the dragon in the eye and said, "This is going to hurt." Before grasping at the stick and pulling with all her might. The pale white dragon reared back it's head as the stick came out with a sickening sucking noise and let out a roar that shook the trees around them. Quickly, Hermione pressed her discarded cloak onto the would trying to stop the bleeding but doing little to help. The dragon was going to bleed to death if she didn't do something soon.

…

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p>

**A.N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, it makes my day a little brighter every time someone comments on my story. Keep them coming.**


	15. XV

**A.N: I want to thank all of my readers for continuing with this story, and I want to express my deep appreciation to every person who has taken the time to review. I love this story, and it does me good to know others find it enjoyable. **

**Thank You  
>Rivena<strong>

…

**Noir Héros**  
><strong>XV<strong>

"Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact." -William James

…

Severus had been mid-sentence when he'd heard the noise coming from the woods surrounding the manor. Scowling, Severus looked out the window. He had turned his back on the staff in order to search the distance for the animal causing all of the commotion, though he had also been masking the surprise that had slipped onto his face at the interruption. Though he was not facing them, he could see their reflection in the glass and it was obvious that the noise had worried them. However one in particular seemed more upset then the rest.

"What lives in these woods?" Severus asked the woman standing directly in front of him. She seemed nervous to answer him, but did as she was asked without hesitation.

"A dragon, sir."

"And why is it that you lot seem so upset as to its distress?" Severus' eyebrows had shot up a fraction of an inch at the mention of the dragon, but he masked his surprise well. It was not often that these beasts allowed themselves to be seen or heard, and there had never been a documented case of a dragon taking up residence on a Manor ground. They were solitary beasts who preferred to be as far away from people as possible, and all those Muggle fairy tales of them guarding the castle gates had been frivolous imagination.

"He's just a young one, sir. His mother has flown to the south for better hunting grounds and isn't expected to return until the end of the week. My son keeps him company, and is with him right now." Severus' first thought was that this woman had raised another Hagrid, and he grimaced at the thought. Dragon's did not make good pets, and he didn't think Hogwarts could handle anymore overgrown spiders.

"Show me." He said. And the entire group led the way to the woods, however only the mother of the son lost with the beast entered on a path that led deep into its heart. The rest stayed behind looking nervously after them.

…

Hermione was casting spell after spell on the wound, trying to get it to close or at the very least stop bleeding so profusely. Mingo's head was now resting heavily on the ground and his nostrils were flaring in shallow breaths. He was losing too much blood and Hermione didn't know what else to do. Every spell she cast on its hide bounced right back off. Nothing was working and the dragon was running out of time.

…

Severus came upon the scene just as Hermione finished casting another healing charm, which bounced off and flew past his head. He could tell that she was trying to help the beast, but he rolled his eyes when he realized that he had finally found something that the Know-It-All did in fact NOT know. There was a reason that dragon hide boots and gloves where of the highest quality, they held magical properties that where not only impenetrable by sharp objects but they also repelled most magic; obviously even magic that was intended to help them.

"Step aside." He said. In a commanding voice that caused Hermione to loose pressure on the wound and for more blood to come spurting out.

"I can't let go." She said, reapplying pressure to the wound. "He'll die if I let go." Her voice was thick and he could tell she was on the verge of breaking.

"He'll die if you don't let go. Now move aside." He placed his hand gently over her's and pushed her firmly out of the way. Her hand came out from under his and he applied the pressure she had been administering. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him intently with tears in her eyes before she sat heavily down next to the dragon's head and began to stoke its neck soothingly.

There were many potion uses for a dragon, and Severus couldn't help but think that even if it did die that his potion supply would gain a lot of useful elements. After all, he had been running low on the smoke they put out after breathing fire and though he was a wealthy man now it still fetched quite a hefty galleon at the market.

Keeping one hand on the wound, Severus pulled his wand out with the other and was interrupted in his task my The-Woman-That-Never-Shut-Up. "They don't work. They keep bouncing off. I tried-"

He cut her off before she could continue. "If you had taken time to read some of the more fascinating books on potion ingredient collection, you may never have had to bother trying. As is the case, the wand is not for the wound." He was growing irritated by her constant urge to interrupt him. She may not have known what she was doing, but to assume that he too would be unaware of how to control the situation was rather infuriating.

He did not whisper a spell; for it had been a long time sense he had actually needed words to cast magic. Quickly, a vial of potion came flying towards him from the Manor. Taking it in his hand he took a moment to calculate the dragon's body mass versus the reactivity of the potion before un-stoppering it and pouring its entire content into the wound. Instantly the dragons head came up and Hermione flung her arms around its neck to calm it, all the while whispering softly to it.

The blood stopped oozing out from the wound and Severus watched with satisfaction as the wound began to knit back together.

"You saved him." A soft voice full of tears and gratitude said from somewhere behind him.

Turning his face to meet the young boys eye Severus gravely responded. "I have stopped the bleeding, but the young beast is not out of the woods yet. He has lost too much blood and I am afraid I do not have a potion to help. A dragon's blood is far different than that of a human, and the blood replenishing potion I have on hand will not be enough to bring him out of harm's way." Looking back at the dragon he saw that his eyes had closed in exhaustion and that his breathing had slowed. "I need to return to the Manor."

Hermione, the woman who had shown him to the woods, and the young boy who looked as though he was losing his best friend all stared at him with wide uncertain eyes and Severus began barking out orders. He told Hermione to stay with the dragon, ordered the boy to gather wood and build a fire, and sent the woman off to bring back enough broth and raw chicken to help offset the dragon's hunger when it finally did awaken. He then turned back towards the Manor and left without another word.

…

Severus returned to where he had left the small amount of his and his wife's shrunken luggage and began the task of combing through it until he found what he wanted. In his hand was a metal cube, completely sealed and solid. Returning it to its original size, he melted the metal away with a swipe of his wandless hand and began casting about its contents for a book entitled Lektvary pre Šelmy, which was Slovak for Potions for a Beast.

Finding it, he grabbed his potions kit and conjured a table in the middle of the foyer and set to work. Forty-five minutes later Severus returned to the spot in the woods where he'd left the injured beast. Brewing the potion had returned Severus' hair to the greasy look that it had always had during his time as Potion Professor for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was hot and had sweat stains under his arms and around the collar of his neck. Uncomfortable and dirty, he returned to find that the dragon had still not touched the warm broth the woman had returned with and that Hermione was now holding its head in her lap and gently caressing it between the ears.

…

Hermione had not heard Severus return, and when a potion vial was held in front of her face it took her a moment to register what was going on. Severus' immaculate appearance had changed since he'd last left them. He had removed his outer robe and was now wearing only a white button down shirt with a high collar and thick black pants. His shirt was sweat soaked and his hair lay limp on his head. He was no longer as immaculately dressed as he had been when he'd first left them in the clearing, but with him towering over her in the soft light from the fire and the dieing sun he looked to her as the most beautiful man she had ever lain eyes on. Not that she would ever be telling him that.

"All of it." He said, and she took the vial from his hand and slowly coached the dragon's mouth open and poured the potion down its throat.

…

Severus had taken up a position under a tree just outside the dim light cast out by the fire. Sinking into the shadows and slowly disappearing was a habit that Severus hadn't quite broke, and he was lucky that the night was warm enough to not let the chill set in. Using his wand, he cleaned himself up though his hair was still lank and dirty against his face as it fell into his eyes.

He had not expected to be approached again until morning and when the small boy came to rest next to him he did not show any signs of acknowledgement.

He was pleased to note that the boy had not come to chat when he curled up next to him on the ground and let his eyes close over his tear stained cheeks and his breathe slow in his chest.

Severus leaned his head back against the tree and he too attempted to allow his mind to rest.

…

Severus had not slept well during the night. Being out and under the stars was not nearly as calming to him as it was to a less troubled man. He was constantly being woken by the sounds of the night: birds calling to each other in the distance, sticks breaking as nocturnal animals scuttled about in the underbrush, and the wind whipping through the trees.

He kept the fire going, levitating logs into the flames without ever standing up. The smoke kept the bugs at bay.

As the sun slowly seeped through the trees Hermione began to stir. She had curled up next to the dragon's head with her arm thrown about its neck. The boy had left the clearing before the sun had even begun to show mumbling something about 'food' and he now returned with a basket full of what Severus assumed was to be their breakfast – his mother having returned to the castle late during the night to sleep in her own bed.

Severus stood, back aching with his left leg having gone completely numb. He walked over to where his wife was still asleep and began to check and see whether the potion he had brewed had worked its magic.

Placing his hand on the dragons neck, it's eyes quickly opened and made contact with his.

Severus had spent the majority of his life with walls up in his mind protecting the secrets that lurked there, so when he felt the gentle nudge in his unprotected thoughts he immediately threw up shields. He was a skilled Legilimens, and where a lesser trained person may have thrown the intruder out in surprise he merely built his walls up in the distance of his mind; projecting thoughts of a warm breakfast into the forefront of his mind. This method left the intruder oblivious of his awareness of the intrusion. He kept contact with the beast and felt the path it was taking in his mind, watching what it saw and anticipating what it was searching for.

Then he felt it. The sound was not coming from the dragon, but rather being resonated in his mind. The dragon was laughing at him.

'_It's not many a person that can stop a dragon from entering his mind. You are quite skilled Wizard.'_

Severus' brow furrowed, he had not been aware of the fact that a dragon could speak to a man in this manner.

'_Oh yes.' _The answer to his unvoiced question came to his mind. _'We are quite capable of many things that you magical folk are unaware of.'_

A moment's pause and the dragon continued before severing the connection with Severus' mind. _'Thank you for saving my life.' _And then it was gone. The unnerving sensation that someone was inside of his mid disappeared, and the dragon again closed his eyes.

…

I spent so much time… Writing this, for you.  
>So how about you spend some time… Please, just review.<p>

…

**A.N: I wrote this one a bit faster than the other chapters, but I got so giddy when I was finished that I didn't want to drag out the time between completion and publication. I have read through it and done my best to use spelling and grammar check, however I am aware of my limitations when it comes to glancing over my own writing mistakes. **

**I apologize if anything is hard to read, and feel free to point out any mistakes you feel I make. I have no Beta and am more than happy to correct any and all of my errors both in plot and writing.**

**Thanks Again For Reading!**


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